


Morse Code

by IreneClaire



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sequel, Team Dynamics, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 57,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2669207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneClaire/pseuds/IreneClaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to "It's All An Illusion", though this story can probably stand on its own merit. During the backdrop of a stressful case, Danny wakes in random places with no memory of why or how he got there. OC Doctor Alphonse 'Ponch' Ramirez makes an appearance, with his wife Ellen. Bromance/whumpage/team dynamic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Key To Nowhere](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/84815) by Enthusiastic Fish. 



> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: There are two things which prompted this story. The first is the seed planted by reading 'The Key to Nowhere' on the Fan Fiction website and the NCIS fan pages by Enthusiastic Fish. It's got more of a supernatural tact ... and is VERY a fun read about Tim. With EF's kind permission, I am borrowing the concept of how one of our main characters (Danny to be exact - umm, for me who else?) wakes in random places with no memory of why or how he got there.
> 
> The second thing to prompt this story is a quirk of mine to want to write a sequel to "It's All An Illusion". So these two things are now merged to one monstrous plot bunny. However, I don't think you need to read the first story; this one should stand on its own.
> 
> Enjoy! And thanks again to Enthusiastic Fish for the generous loan of this fun idea! CinderH, TheDogo (Miss Bunny Thrasher) and Komodo Queen are to be constantly recognized for never-ending amounts of support (aka: enabling).

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter One**

 

Noise trickled in to fill his senses first. Cat-calls of seabirds and the sound of rough surf; the soft patter of rain on the roof above his head.

"Stupid birds," Danny sighed in disgust, turning over to avoid what he expected to happen next. The trill of his alarm to demand that he open his eyes to start the day. But the prospect of waking to the odd one-off, gloomy Hawaiian morning wasn't appealing. So he turned over, shivering against the coldness and at a loss when his fingers sightlessly failed at connecting with either the bed sheet or the top comforter.

Moaning in annoyance, Danny winced when his ribs protested an uncomfortable surface and his head slid to the side to connect with an even harder one.

"Ow." Blindly running his fingers through his hair, Danny's quiet objection instantly stilled when his knuckles felt the smooth dampness of what could only be described as slick glass. The cold moisture seeping into his skin, coupled finally with a much too strong odor of dankly foul ocean coalesced with a sudden illogical force. Bolting upright, his left arm slammed into another unyielding object and he cursed as his eyes flew open in alarm.

"What … the fuck?" Danny's breath literally shuddered to a halt in his lungs as he rubbed at the trilled sting of his funny bone. Barefoot and wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, Danny dumbly eyed the passenger seat of his car in the pre dawn darkness. In shock, he registered the rivulets of rain streaming down the window and then more as a stormy gust flung a sheet of drenching rain violently against the windshield.

The pelting sound of bulleted water increased on the car's metal roof more than two-fold to a near deafening roar just as his body protested lack of air and he heaved in a loud broken gasp. He had been sitting off kilter and had woken only to slam his left elbow into the steering column. The erratic beating of his heart answered the discordant throbbing in his temple and he shivered in the damp coldness as his final senses kicked in to react to his predicament.

He was worse than cold; he was freezing as he tucked his hands under his arms and his shiver increased to expand across his body. His knee jolted when his bare feet slipped on the floor mat, hitting the keys which thankfully were still cradled in the ignition switch. Shifting in the driver's seat his bare back peeled resentfully off the leather of the bucket seat. Danny stared at the remnants of his misty knuckled imprint left near where his head had rested against the driver's side window. There was a dim recognition that the uncomfortable pressure against his ribs had been caused by the armrest.

But the view of a long black wharf seen over the hood of his Camaro rendered him unable to act. He could so easily turn the ignition and thumb on the heater; yet as his brain now stuttered to a stop, Danny couldn't quite yet find the wherewithal to move.

Barely seen for the storm, three desolate shipping freighters flanked each side of the long dock. Their black skulking hulks were silent and immovable, so largely impressive, they dwarfed the Camaro to the size of an ant. Completely unable to grasp the concept of doing something, he stared through the windshield and the wind-driven rain. For minutes on end, Danny sat there shivering and dumb-struck by a plight he couldn't remember.

As he clutched his arms tightly around his chest, Danny shook his head in disbelief and racked his brain to find reason in the unreasonable. His last memory was paying for a lousy dinner with Steve at a local dive restaurant. He had paid …. cash ... and now, he closed his eyes to replay the few seconds it had taken the cashier to count out the difference into his palm. Two fives, three singles and thirty-two cents. One of the five dollar bills had been tossed to the cheap linoleum table as a tip. After that though, there was nothing in his mind but a bleak hole.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Danny whispered to himself. It had happened again. However this time, it was much worse.

Peering out again over the hood of his car, Danny shivered in the cold as a brazen bolt of lightning illuminated the docked ships. The clap of thunder was instantaneous as the weather hovered low and directly over where he sat.

It was worse. So incredibly and unbelievably … worse… because this time, and despite barely being clothed, he had no idea where he was.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	2. Chapter 2

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Two**

"What do you mean you're not coming in? I need you here, Danny," Steve's overly loud sigh was not understanding as he listened to his partner's much too brief and extremely poorly timed announcement of needing a day off. The case the team was focused on, in conjunction with the FBI, required all-hands on deck and they were at a critical juncture.

"We're meeting in ten and you decide to return my calls now? The entire morning is gone and you call me now?" Rapping his fist distractedly on his desk, he sighed again entirely for Danny's benefit to leave no doubt that the next question would be almost obligatory. Steve couldn't help shaking his head in the privacy of his office. Planning meetings were ramping up with their counterparts in the FBI and no one had time for a respite or any kind of distraction.

"Are you sick or is this about what happened yesterday?" Steve asked.

The resulting silence was deafening, causing Steve to refocus his attention and quaff the rise in a feeling of defensive irritation. His partner had been in a foul stench of a mood the prior day. Snappy and ill-tempered, Danny had been jumpy from the start to eventually bring on what almost had seemed like a partner-ending confrontation in the war room. Sarcasm had soon become a series of nasty remarks leading to a defensive parry of words with voices rising like an unstoppable tidal wave. Before anyone could properly react, Danny had stormed from the offices returning scarcely an hour later. He had sequestered himself in his office until Chin had intervened to insist upon a casual dinner.

Now overly quiet though, Danny's abrupt change in attitude coupled with an out of character tardiness, caused Steve to virtually drill the phone to his ear. He couldn't hear anything though; not even a soft puff of breath into the phone. "Danny? There's nothing wrong with Grace, is there?" Rising to his feet behind his office desk, an illogical concern mounted. A niggling oddity that something had happened between the prior evening's half-assed attempt at dinner and that very morning's scheduled team meeting.

"Danny, are you still there?" Steve prodded, nervous when he finally more sensed an awkward fidget versus received an intelligible, verbal answer.

"Yeah," Danny eventually muttered. He was most definitely still on the call as he fingered the square card in his fingers, but he'd barely heard a single word. The black lines merged together as he zoned out because with only an appointment to see the doctor, he wasn't quite able to answer the first key question as to if he might be sick. He had no way to really explain that he'd sat alone for hours in the middle of a storm not knowing what to do until he thought of his friend, Doctor Alphonse Ramirez.

Once the thought had clicked home, Danny had spontaneously gone to visit the doctor's office that very morning seeking help, only to learn that Ramirez was returning from a trip to the Big Island. His office hours were staggered to start in the late afternoon and to carry on into the evening. Sensing the desperate urgency and knowing that the Five-0 officer was a personal friend of the Ramirez family, the receptionist had juggled heaven and earth to find time on the doctor's booked schedule.

Completely in a world of his own, Danny hadn't found the time to return Steve's urgent voice mails. He had meant to do many things - none of which actually occurred. Instead, he was late for work, hadn't managed to call in with a valid explanation, ignored anxious calls from his partner, and was now about to miss a critical meeting with the FBI leads.

His excuses about being sick though ran thin in his own mind. He'd skipped dinner, worked too many hours nonstop without a break. Too much coffee or even not enough…. definitely not nearly enough sleep based on their current workload. Yet it all sounded thin and cheap even to his own ears because they were all suffering in the same way and under identical stressors. Working a tough case was nothing he hadn't personally done before. So why now? Why now of all times, was he dreaming, sleep-walking and most inconceivably of all, waking in strange places in the darkest hours of the night after driving in what could only be described as a state of zombie-like behavior?

"Yeah," Danny repeated, frowning when a shadowed movement caught his eye. It came from the direction of the living room, but as he walked forward, there was nothing to be found. He forgot to add seeing things to his laundry list of current woes and made a mental note to tell Ramirez. Sharply pinching the bridge of his nose both in disgust and against another dull headache, he inhaled deeply before speaking.

"Listen, I know the timing stinks but I need the day off. And no Steven, it has nothing to do with what happened yesterday... or Grace, she's fine." Stifling the very distracted feelings of annoyance which darkened his face, Danny bit his tongue from saying more. He desperately needed to take a few hours off to see Ramirez in an attempt to regroup and gain perspective. Yet he'd been more than moody the day before with the smallest of things rubbing him the wrong way. His negativity had slowly worked away at each member of his team, resulting in a mouthy confrontation between himself and Steve over something of which he could now barely recall. All of it had been uncalled for and entirely his fault.

"Listen, Steve…," he was about to apologize when another glimmering shift of darkness and light caught his eye and he did a double-take. Scowling, he stared into the living room, bending down to peer into corners. As before though, nothing was there and his preoccupied pause allowed Steve time to interrupt.

 _"The timing more than stinks, Danno. So then... you are sick? What's wrong?"_   Leave it to Steve to push but Danny could hardy blame the man due to his own evasive behavior.

"I don't know," Danny unexpectedly replied carrying a tone softer than he would have liked and he soundly kicked himself. An accidental tone which leaked out and couldn't hide his confusion, worry and even perhaps included just a bit of very real fear. After forcing himself to act down on the docks, it had taken him a good twenty minutes to figure out where he was after getting to a main road. With the heat on high, it still had taken a long time for him to physically warm up in the car. But the painful blast of weather he endured on his exposed skin to get to his front door upon arriving home had destroyed that false sense entirely.

Drenched and chilled by hard pellets of wind-driven rain, he had been stunned to find his front door unlocked. He had staggered into his dark house slamming on lights and skidding on wet bare feet across the wooden floors. By then, Danny was so distressed, he didn't care if he was unarmed as he anxiously cleared each room on the way to his bedroom. He remained unarmed until he retrieved his weapon from the bedside table cursing even more loudly when he realized that he really didn't remember coming home the prior evening.

The clues that he must have were obvious because everything was in its rightful place. His badge and wallet were neatly stacked on the dresser. His holstered weapon lay in its usual spot nested inside the table's top drawer. Safety on and clip discharged by its side. His teeth had been clenched as his stress escalated and he'd finished the job room by room, once more shivering and shaking as cold rainwater dripped relentlessly from his hair to mingle with that streaking down his body. Leaving long wet veins and uneven puddles of water on his haphazard journey, his home was distressingly as empty as his mind.

Bolting the doors and dragging himself into the hottest shower he could stand, Danny had searched the tiniest recesses of his brain for a reason. But despite his best efforts, he didn't remember anything after having had a late dinner with his team.

 _"You don't know if you're sick?"_   The sound of Steve's voice jolted him back to present.  _"What does that mean, Danny? How can you not know if you're sick?"_   The tone was dry but intent to prove to Danny that he had his partner's rapt attention now. Certainly now as Danny eyed the late hour which approached afternoon and he continued to waffle on each and every word which suddenly seemed a chore to force from his mouth.

_"Danny, what are you talking about? What's going on?"_

"I don't know." Exasperated and bone-weary from a long, stressful morning, Danny rubbed one hand over his face. "I … uh … have a doctor's appointment," he offered lamely. "With Ponch."

The only reason he had the doctor's appointment for that very day was because of his friendship with Doctor Alphonse 'Ponch' Ramirez. Running what was considered a simple pedestrian medical clinic or not, Ponch was a busy man and Danny was also craving privacy; a healthy dose of anonymity. It was why he'd picked the older physician from the start once he'd settled on the idea. So, appointments had been shuffled, hours had been duly shifted, and he'd been fit in as a courtesy.

 _"What?"_   Faced with silence again, Steve was on an uncomfortable edge. The case was forgotten, as was the meeting which included a side bar conference call with the Governor. Standing in his office, Steve forgot everything as he honed in on the implications which Danny's voice communicated. Everyone had the occasional doctor's appointment however this was different and Steve was almost afraid to ask. _"What kind of appointment? Why Ponch? What's going on with you, Danno?"_

"That's just it … I don't know." Heaving in a sigh fraught with worry, he grimaced unhappily before resigning himself to speaking the whole truth. It was too late to turn back and he'd gone down the bumpy path with Steve entirely the wrong way. Danny paused and then stammered inanely when a dark flicker entered his spatial periphery, but once more was gone before he could place it. "Steve, I have an appointment with Ponch because …. because, I lost a few hours and I need his opinion. I don't know what happened …. or, how I wound up …. where I did … and it's not the first time."

It was Steve's turn to be silent. Clearly upset and very flustered, Danny was stammering over his words in discordant spurts. The team trusted Doctor Ramirez, but besides voluntarily looking for help, what Danny was saying seemed impossible and he wasn't sure he heard correctly.

"How exactly do you mean that you lost hours, Danno?" Turning to sink onto the corner of his desk, Steve was baffled. The reverberation of understanding that whatever had happened had occurred at least another time established a strongly worrisome undercurrent tantamount to what he heard in his partner's voice. It was more than easy to hear that Danny was upset and acting completely off his game.

"I was with you last night. We ate at that lousy dive and then went home," Steve cautiously prompted once more. "What happened after that?"

 _"Yeah,"_ Danny's third mumble of the same tired word had Steve shaking his head in exasperation. His next partial sentence had him stonewalled though when the hollow tone trailed off to nothing. _"The last thing I remember is paying the bill at the restaurant… until… well…"_

Stunned by the admission and attempting to digest sketchy details, Steve prodded for more information.

"Until what, Danno?" Unconsciously whispering, Steve stared blindly out the office window. It had rained all night and the skies were still darkly overcast. He felt the change through the phone even though silence once more reigned for far too long a time. "Until what?" Steve repeated over an unintelligible mumble eking faintly over the line. Even without seeing his partner, the rise in stress was excruciatingly palpable. But he never anticipated the next words.

 _"I woke up in my car down by the docks well before dawn. I don't know how long I was there or even how I got there... not really. And don't you dare ask me why,"_ Danny finally ground out. His voice was strained and rife with an angry sense of bewilderment. _"Don't ask because I sure as hell don't know."_

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	3. Chapter 3

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Three**

"With luck, he's going to kill his partner … afterwards, he'll kill himself," Elise Wells sweetly whispered to Silas where they sat wrapped up together on the plush sofa. Beams of sunlight were filling the room in broad strokes, music echoed softly in the background, and both were happily fulfilled to be in the other's company. "It doesn't really matter though, does it? Who goes first … or how."

His plumed tail thumped soothingly in time to her even lilting cadence. She was in good spirits, beaming into Silas's wide pant as she stroked his soft head while reliving her successes. Her early wins had been child's play compared to what she was now going to accomplish.

"First though, he's going to lose … lose everything at his own hands and then … only then, he'll die. First one … and then the other." Elise looked up from Silas's adoring darkly liquid eyes to study the family photographs perfectly aligned in their silver frames on her new piano. Her gaze traveled from one to the other, soaking in the familiar faces of her husband and brothers now left to her only as framed remembrances, and she smiled warmly in their direction. She knew without a doubt that her two brothers would especially have approved of her recent actions.

"I guess I should take you for a walk?" Elise murmured to Silas. She didn't move though because she was still staring intently at her brother, Vincent's picture. As always, she marveled at their physical similarities and found herself smiling at her memories because they had also been so very like-minded. A sweet picture of her and Louis came next. She had been sixteen in the photo and Louis only four. As she stared at her younger self, Elise felt her smile briefly waver in its intensity.

"I miss them, Silas. You would have liked Louis," Elise whispered with a new melancholy, now sad when the dog settled his chin on her knee as if listening to every word. "He would have played with you all the time. But he's gone now. They're all gone now."

She was always and forever taking care of the needs of someone else. It had always defined her existence. With the sudden spike of loneliness, the glimmer of a smile which had touched her lips faded. For all intents, she had raised their baby brother after her parents had died in a car accident. She missed him as if he were her own child; in fact, she missed all of them but death seemed to follow her.

Six months had gone by since her move from the mainland and what had begun as an excruciatingly long day-by-day existence had settled into a more normal, happier routine. Two weeks had quickly passed since she had brought Silas home, a three-year old Golden Retriever she had bonded with while caring for his bedridden owner. The terminally ill woman had died at home and with that passing, Elise had simply transitioned Silas' ownership to herself. Having Silas softened the blow and lessened the deep unease about her employer's abrupt passing. The ebullient, handsome dog was a welcome addition in her much too painfully quiet life. His arrival seemed to be the impetus to drive Elise into full nesting mode; to at long last immerse herself in her true purpose.

In those two short weeks, she now looked entirely different from her initial arrival on the Islands. After her frenetic relocation from the mainland, she had gotten that part-time job as a home heath care aide and the boost had begun to settle her jittery bouts of indecision. Then having Silas sparked another complete transformation. Gone was her flyaway mousy-brown hair, lackluster complexion and dour clothing. Elise had rejuvenated herself with an ultimate goal of redefining her life's purpose. In her bright, sunny new house and surrounded by cheery people, everything had improved. So while her first job was unfortunate in that it hadn't been an opportunity designed to last very long, she had acquired her beloved Silas and then another door had quickly opened to show her the way.

A bigger door; a much more rewarding door at a local hospital which offered full-time employment and incredible advantages.

"It's fun to make things happen. Isn't it fun, Silas?" Elise found her smile again, scrunching her fingers through his thick reddish-brown ruff to convey her mutual adoration for the big dog. "So now, I'm going to take care of him. Permanently."  Though her words were nastily dire, Elise had to laugh when Silas's reply was a standard two agreeable thumps of his tail.

"It's perfect," she whispered dreamily. "Everything is absolutely perfect. Tonight he'll come home to a very special gift." Elise had more things to do that afternoon while the detective was at work. Many, many more tasks to accomplish before her next shift at the hospital. Her eyes briefly glazed over as she murmured endearments to Silas and he pressed his cold nose deeply into her hand for more attention. She laughed softly, refocusing on the expectant Retriever's face. Living three blocks away from the detective's house was intentionally designed to be advantageous for her ongoing plans and so, her walks with Silas served two purposes. One for the dog's enjoyment and the other entirely for her personal brand of subterfuge.

"Yes, I should take you for that walk." Elise reiterated more definitively. "Are you ready, Silas? Where's your leash, handsome boy?"

Her dog's pretty head cocked at the more exuberant sounding words, one jowled lip comically hanging on a white-fanged tooth as her tone changed. His response was to leave her side to stand by the front door, tail wagging vigorously. She grinned at his antics when he twirled a left-handed circle and sounded a respectably deep tonal woof as if surely seconding her idea.

"Okay, let's go. You win." For the first time in many months, Elise Wells was a happily content woman.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	4. Chapter 4

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Four**

The only reason Danny allowed Steve to steamroll himself into the consultation with Doctor Ramirez was the gravity of this latest event. At least that was what Danny first told himself after he called Steve from where he'd been decompressing at the overlook. Hs eyes were burning coals in his head and his face was in a constant squint from the brightness of the sun despite sunglasses, but Danny couldn't sleep. Not in the middle of the day and with so much on his mind: or not, depending on how one might want to look at it.

So, Danny told himself that he allowed Steve access, when more accurately, it was coupled with the very obvious fact that now his personal cage had been duly rattled which fittingly also unnerved his partner. The reasoning was so sound after Ramirez phoned to request Danny's presence even earlier that afternoon and he'd notified Steve of the change in time. Danny convinced himself of having personally permitted Steve into the doctor's office despite the fact the man in question had been so arrogantly lounging outside the clinic with his arms folded stubbornly across his chest. Lounging with ankles crossed as he leaned against the white railing of the sweet little establishment with a look, Danny for once, couldn't put words to.

 _"We ... no, you ...have a meeting,"_ Danny had objected, partly relieved and partially offended by the unexpected appearance. _"An urgent one that you especially can't miss. What are you doing here?"_

 _"Chin and Kono can handle the FBI, the Governor and this planning session,"_ Steve refuted his initial claims of work priorities by neatly cutting off Danny's initial objections. After that, he'd offered no other explanation as he followed on Danny's heels up the short steps to the front door. Danny's egregious sigh regarding the non-negotiable demand had been loud, yet he'd permitted Steve to follow.

So, he mentally reminded himself over and over as they now sat in the doctor's office with Steve just off to the side. Danny had just denied feeling sick, other than suffering from a bout of an occasional headache. Nonetheless, he had also shared the unhappy fact of having experienced three other instances of losing time over the last many weeks which had brought the doctor back full circle to how he was feeling.

"No, Doc, I'm fine. Nothing except a few headaches here and there; it's nothing." His temper was frayed and his mood bordering more than sour as he negated any known physical woes. Matters were made worse when Steve softly murmured a nonsensical stunned sound causing Danny to firmly set his jaw in annoyance.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything." Danny irritably stated. "I'm wasting your time, Doc." His uncomfortable squirming in the guest chair across from the doctor's desk continually conveyed his emotional tension as he reigned his temper back under a tenuous control. "I'm a little tired; but we all are."

"No, you're doing the right thing in coming in to see me," Ponch softly demurred as he leaned back in his chair and measured Danny's shaking hands and pale complexion. He could easily see and now hear the evidence of the mood swings. Without a word, he additionally noted the jittery eye movements and overly jumpy edge which his friend seemed to straddle. Communicating little of his true concerns, Ponch glanced towards Steve to see if he had also noticed the clues. Their eyes met and Steve literally winced.

"Headaches are one thing. Walking… driving… and not knowing why or how you got there?" Steve's disbelieving tone had turned into one of true concern. It put the recent temperamental moodiness into an entirely new category and he ran his hand over his face before gesturing helplessly. Intentionally keeping his voice low, Steve felt the need to gently reprimand his friend based not only on what he hadn't really seen before, but for what he was hearing now. "This happened to you three other times? Three? Why didn't you say something before today, Danny?"

"Last night was the worst. Before that, those couple of times didn't seem like anything … not until… now," Danny retorted defensively.

The responsive weary shake of the head was also filled with enough answer and Steve growled resentfully under his breath. He should have been more aware; more mindful of how Danny was truly feeling and acting. Steve blatantly reexamined his friend's face for what he'd missed or discounted as part of an exhausting side-affect of working a hard case. While what had occurred overnight was obviously fresh and preying on his nerves, Danny was indeed unhealthily pale. Steve's acknowledgment or understanding that his entire team was running on fumes slowly morphed into something else as he cataloged Danny's glassy-eyed expression and recalled the more frequent occurrences of irritable testiness. Adding insult to what he now saw, as far as the prior evening was concerned, a good portion of Danny's meal had been abandoned on the restaurant's table.

"What?" Steve asked when Danny's head swiveled sharply to the left. He realized then the jumpy movement was another oddity he'd witnessed a few times as Danny blinked his eyes in confusion and frowned after muttering a soft curse under his breath.

"I thought I saw something," Danny scowled at himself, moving back to studiously staring at his fingers and then the floor. He refused to meet Steve's face while ruefully shaking his head. He chuffed in disgust only at himself while choosing now to study a stubborn old scuff-mark on Doctor Ramirez's wooden floor. He needed to quiet his eyes, bring his lurching heart beat back to center, by avoiding the shadows which seemed to shimmer; nothing was there.

Nothing was ever there.

"Unbelievable," Danny mumbled under his breath. He had called Ponch for a reason and now he could sense the difficulty he was causing as the doctor awkwardly shifted in his chair. He was communicating poorly and he closed his eyes briefly because what he was doing that very moment was also indicative of a problem. No matter how hard he wanted to deny it, his entire attitude shouted out that he had a definite problem.

"Have you taken any new medications?" Ponch almost asked hesitantly because the implications of the question were significant. "Anything at all that I need to know about?"

"No. Only over the counter stuff for the occasional headache," Danny answered honestly. But then his eyes narrowed angrily as he quickly garnered the true reason behind the doctor's inquiry. His eyes swung up from the spot on the floor to meet Ramirez's overly calm gaze head-on. "Just plain acetaminophen…. extra strength, but nothing else. What? You think I took something... something illegal?"

"You know that I need to ask, Danny." Nonplussed by the outburst, only a small sniff emanated from his mouth as Doctor Ramirez silently catalogued Danny's overly restless mannerisms and defensive attitude. His friend was rarely quiet to need so much coaching to talk. He seemed more on edge than normal; exactly as if he were coming off a drugged high. He was clearly distracted, but that could be blamed on being self-conscious and even embarrassed by what he was relating. On a positive note, Danny's eyes were clear and while he was being moodily difficult, he was certainly of sound mind.

"Tell me about the first few times," Ponch coaxed to change the focus of the subject down a safer path. "What happened? What do you remember?"

"So, yeah. It happened three other times," Danny pursed his lips as he fell into a moment of deeper reflection to gather his thoughts. With a flustered expression, he took a deep breath and simply began recounting each strange experience.

"The first time was about a month ago and it wasn't a big deal. At least, not really," Danny said with a glimmer of anxiety. "I woke up sitting outside on my own lanai." He sighed though as if exasperated, eyes flitting everywhere in the doctor's office but only settling once more on the blackish scuff mark.

"Danny?" Ponch cocked his head, waiting because there was going to be a twist. Watching and following Danny's line of sight with a quizzical sense of puzzlement.

"Yeah, well. I don't remember doing it … or how it happened." He scowled self-consciously, hesitating only briefly before completely giving in to the doctor's prodding. "But I was completely showered, shaved, and dressed for work down to my badge and my service revolver. It was four o'clock on a Saturday morning and I was just sitting there. Alone. In the dark and I don't remember how it happened."

Frozen in place, Steve forced himself not to speak, though he did glance towards the older man to share his own bewilderment and growing level of concern.

"Alright," Ponch kept his voice softly modulated while tapping his desk gently. The important thing was to keep Danny talking between the jagged spurts of starting and stopping his sentences. "What was the second time … and when?"

"It was a week after the first," Danny began, only to immediately stop and Ramirez frowned at the unconscious reaction. The doctor watched as Danny glanced apologetically towards Steve before eventually continuing with scarcely a breath between each word.

"Our schedules have been a bit crazy at the office because of this case. For whatever reason, I was the only one there that night following up on one final lead; it was a total bust. Anyway, I was in my office around two o'clock in the morning; I swear I was …. I can see my computer screen. But one minute I was sitting at my desk and then I was standing alone outside the evidence locker. It was two forty-five and I can't account for those forty-five minutes."

"Forty-five minutes?" Steve blurted. He scoured his memory trying to recall the few times he'd left even one of his team alone in the office, but couldn't quite recall what Danny alluded to. Shaking his head, Steve knew that at one time or another, they had each stayed independently when one had the urge or need to calm a festering urge to chase something down. It wasn't usually a big deal and yet this time, it was. "You don't remember going down three flights of stairs to the locker? By yourself? In the middle of the night?"

Steve didn't state the next obvious point: that it didn't in any way, shape or form take forty-five minutes to get to the locker. Staring at his partner, Steve could easily read that unease in his face. The how and where were issues, however the why and growing blocks of time were beyond unsettling.

Rather than answering, Danny merely shrugged. He'd replayed the oddity so many times, he had nothing to say for it. The gap between where he had been sitting in his office to that particular waking moment was a black chasm of unaccountable lost time. Those two occurrences had certainly left him at an uncomfortable spot. The next though was spectacular and he almost didn't know where to begin.

"Except for last night, the third time was … bad. It was really bad and I should have said something then." Danny rubbed his face, hiding behind his hands while resting his elbows on his knees. It had been frighteningly strange. Scarily weird enough to send his mind down a multitude of worrisome paths. But at least he'd known where he was even if he didn't like it.

"Four days ago, I woke up in my car but this time I was sitting in a parking lot," Danny's voice was muffled through his fingers. In his mind's eye, he easily conjured the stunned fear he'd felt when he woke … or came around … from whatever this medical condition might be. Barefoot, but at least clothed, he remembered his stunned awareness of seeing the steps and the brick-faced building with its ornate signage over the hood of his Camaro.

"Where? The office again?" Steve automatically went there, trying to gently prompt for more information as his head spun in circles.

"That would have made sense." Eyes red-rimmed now, Danny looked over to Steve while simultaneously slumping down in the chair. Part of him was utterly relieved in being able to get what was going on off his chest, nonetheless the purge was exhausting as he verbalized each frightening instance. "I would have preferred the office to where I really was."

Steve frowned, once more forcing himself to wait for his partner to finish because the grim punchline was coming. He was angry with himself though for mis-reading Danny's exhaustion and subtle fits of temper during their days at work. The anger yesterday resulted in their worst argument to date and now, only now, did Steve understand more of its true source.

"I woke up at Grace's school, Steven. Right there in the first row of the parking lot." Once more defensive, Danny protectively hugged his arms over his chest. Glassy-eyed from more than being tired, he was confused and terribly worried by what was happening.

"Imagine that." He barked out a sharp laugh, but the sound only worsened what he was about to say. "It wasn't quite yet five o'clock in the morning and at least I knew where I was …. and before you ask, yes I was dressed but not for work. Just sweats and a t-shirt."

"Damnit, Danno! No." Stunned by the revelation and taken aback by his partner's devastated expression, Steve shook his head at the sobering news. "I wasn't going to say that."

"Alright, Danny," Ponch vainly attempted to counter the growing personal ire and self-flagellation as his friend slowly began to unravel even more in front of his eyes.

"So, here's the part where you tell me I'm crazy, right Doc?" Danny tried to smile and failed. One knee bounced repetitively in place as he eyed the physician. "Work related stress? Sleep-walking and what — sleep driving? I'm not on drugs but I guess I should be, right?"

"Honestly, this could be work-related stress," Ramirez offered calmly. He heaved in a deep leveling breath of air before expelling it thoughtfully. "I'm drawing blood here; we'll do a few regular tests today to get a baseline. But I'm going to call for a complete head to toe physical, as well. Now tell me, when's the last time you had time off? Real time off?"

Vainly scrubbing at his face, Danny shook his head and then added a lackadaisical shrug. He sniffed appreciatively when it was Steve who answered for them both.

"Never. Actually," Steve caught the wry expression and nearly laughed at his own definition of vacation which translated to Reserve maneuvers. "Long weekends here and there, but not a real vacation."

"Perhaps it's time then," Ramirez let what was not exactly advice roll blatantly off his tongue with a meaningful drawl. "Actually."

"No, I don't need time off … we're in the middle of an important case. We're in the midst of making plans … for something," Danny instantly argued while being circumspect about their actual proprietary plans, annoyed and even offended by Ramirez's increasing list of formal suggestions. "We're at a critical point and I can't just take time now. Besides, I'm not going to let this affect my job!"

"It already has, Danny. It has.. just last night and into today. And while possibly not as severe, you just admitted experiencing similar instances a few times before." Eyebrows raised almost comically, Ponch seemed to be smiling, but his tone said otherwise. The disagreeable sound which Steve made in the back of his throat concurred.

In short, Danny would be subjected to blood tests, a complete physical and on top of that, a period of enforced rest. Based upon Ramirez's set expression, his rules were going to be non-negotiable. Yet, the ideas irked him because he didn't expect any of these new edicts to be lobbed his way. At least not so soon and not so unfairly coming out of a basic consultation.

"Listen, Doc, I just came in to talk today. Blood tests are fine, but I need a week or two if you want me to take time off. We're in the middle of something," Danny pushed with a reasonable attempt at remaining civil. He knew he was beginning to sound angry though, in fact he could feel the blood rushing to his face. Reacting as if he were backed into a corner, he couldn't help it though as the concept of being pulled off the case twisted his stomach.

"Two weeks," Danny reiterated in the midst of a lingering silence while floating two fingers in the air between them. "We'll do all of this in two weeks, Doc."

"You came to me asking for advice," Ramirez reminded him. "I'm a doctor and need to act on what you've shared today. My opinion is that we run a few tests and that you take a leave of absence immediately until we get this situation sorted out, Danny." The sage words weren't received well though as yet another uncomfortable silence extended in the office.

"How about a compromise?" Steve slowly offered with an understanding nod towards his partner. "I agree that we have to do something, but maybe we can work something out. There has to be a better plan that makes us all happy."

Soundlessly, Danny stared at Steve even though he was still shaking his head in wonder. "Blood tests and a physical first, Doc. Let's manage one thing at a time. But I need Danno on the job right now even if it's only light desk duty."

"Desk duty!" Danny interrupted loudly. In an instant he was on his feet and virtually leering into Steve's seated personal space. "You can't be serious!"

"Yup, I can be, Danno,' Steve blandly retorted, faking non-concern when his partner lurched to his feet. "Desk duty or nothing at all."

"What?" Danny asked sarcastically. "Are you going to babysit me now? Keep an eye on me... just in case?"

"It's a reasonable option," Steve softly noted. With his partner on his feet, his voice automatically lowered as he measured Danny's complexion and overall response. In truth, his partner was quite correct in that he wanted Danny closer until the reason behind the strange occurrences was solved. It was disconcerting to learn what had been happening and Steve was absolutely worried.

"Desk duty is reasonable, Danny," he repeated calmly. "Just for a few days." Steve didn't go any further as Danny blustered around him. He raised his eyebrows as he listened to the battery of offended complaints which were equally valid. Either one of them would resent the concept of being tied to their office. But Danny's attitude was just a shade more dark than it should have been.

"As a medical professional and your friend, I disagree," Ponch declared in exasperation as he looked from one to the other. He listened in amazement as the very stresses of their job rang clearly throughout his small office.

"Do you hear yourselves?" The physician snarked back, arms raised high as the two argued about the legitimacy of Danny being to help the case continue successfully from behind a glass window. While Steve adamantly felt it more than possible, Danny was just as stubbornly arguing against it. Ponch's head swung from one to the other, eyes widening in ever increasing surprise as they ignored his very existence. "This is precisely what I mean, gentlemen!"

"The case is due to wrap up in a few days," Steve explained after a final silence-enducing glare aimed at his partner. "Pull blood and do what you need now. Here. He gets a full physical tomorrow though. And, if he's fine pending those results, I need Danny on the case even if he's bound to a desk. Afterwards, and unless something comes up before … we'll see where we are with a medical leave of absence."

"You can't be serious." With a loud noise, Danny roughly slouched back to sit in his chair. He had no choice in the matter and argued with himself about its perceived unfairness versus what he knew to be a rational truth. There was no doubt that he was angry because the discussion had devolved into a place he'd least expected, but Steve's compromise was soundly based and he had to comply with it.

"Fine, fine," he sighed in exasperation. Idly to compound his words, he waved a purely disgusted hand in the air to admit his own acceptance of the terms.

"I still don't like it," Ponch reiterated loudly, snorting in derision when Danny had the gall to sardonically mumble the same but for an entirely different reason. He frowned from behind his desk, completely dissatisfied with the trade-off. With a last chuffed sound communicating his discontent, he finally stood, pushing his chair back as the two men also rose to their feet.

"Exam room one, Danny. I'm drawing blood myself and rushing the lab results." Ponch was clear about the tests he'd be conducting as he ushered him from the office. The next day, he'd arrange for the complete physical at a fully equipped facility.

"This won't take long and my office will make arrangements for tomorrow. But I'm telling both of you if anything happens between now and then... I expect a call. No questions asked; at any time."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	5. Chapter 5

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Five**

Danny refused to discuss more than he had already shared inside the clinic after Doctor Ramirez drew blood, pushed him into the lavatory with a small plastic cup, and then complained about his blood pressure and heart rate. With Steve in the waiting room, he had also been forced to listen to the older doctor's ongoing opinions regarding the immediate need for time off from his hectic job. So much so, that Danny found himself using and relying on the desk duty alternative himself as a valid compromise to quiet the wise medical advice.

Traipsing down the clinic steps towards his car, Danny remained in a vile mood about the pending physical and threat of being bound to his desk for even a few short days. Considering a further possible requirement for a mandatory medical leave of absence was an outrageous affront. He had purged mightily and for the first time he might remember, thought he might never want to speak again.

"What are you doing?" Keys in hand, his feet tripped and then stalled as he refocused from his introspective thoughts. He was mere inches from his car but of all things to be presented with, Steve was blocking his access to the Camaro.

"Get out of the way," he seethed just loud enough for Steve to hear the anger in his voice. "Seriously, I am not in the mood right now." Being blocked from his own car was the last thing which Danny felt like coping with and he shook his head in warning as Steve refused to budge. For a moment the two stood there facing each other in silence with the late afternoon sun still beating down hard enough to be uncomfortably warm.

"Let me take you home. In fact Danno, I think you should stay with someone until Ponch figures this out," Steve spoke first, trying one final time to intervene that day. With that clear purpose in mind, he remained standing sentry by the driver's side door to prevent Danny from reaching the handle. Loathe to leave him now, Steve placed one hand on his partner's shoulder to stop him from moving forward. More than on high alert after having heard the entire story, he was admittedly concerned when Danny rigidly shook his head to decline the plea.

"What home?" Danny smirked in disgust as his fingers sternly settled on Steve's own to physically remove them from where they rested on his shoulder. "I need to be watched? I might do something, right? Wind up somewhere least expected?" Though his voice remained modulated to a low pitch, Danny didn't even try to hide his deepening anger. "Let me guess. You would be that self-appointed someone, right Steven?"

"Yes. It at least makes sense to me," Steve breathed out carefully. With his hands down by his side, he pensively watched and waited, concerned as Danny's face flew through a series of emotions to settle on something least expected.

"You know what? Forget it." Without warning, Danny suddenly deflated to recant with a wave of his hand as part apology. He backed up two steps before heaving in a deeply setting breath and gesturing meaningfully to the car to indicate his desire to leave. "I'm just tired and this talk... this consultation... didn't go the way I thought it might. Not at all."

"I know. But actually… yes to all the above," Steve truthfully replied to the questions. Inside he was stunned by the swiftness of the mood-swings as he found himself glancing to the small white bandage in the crook of his partner's arm. Now that he was witness to more of the unsettling story, Ramirez wasn't the only one anxious to obtain the test results.

"If it happens again, whatever this is, I can help," he calmly pushed. "I don't think you should be alone, Danno." However, when the resulting silence became that ultimate answer, Steve unhappily moved aside. Ramirez had grudgingly admitted Danny healthy enough to drive as long as the man went directly home to sleep. It was one last concession which Danny had taken gratefully based upon that firm understanding.

"I'm just going to sleep," Danny sighed upon sliding into the driver's seat. Through that sound, he maintained a petition for some privacy which he compounded with some truthfulness of his own. An emotional weariness had begun to surpass his physical fatigue. He was done with talking and only wanted a hot shower, followed by the blessed ability to crawl deeply under his bed covers until the next day. "That's all, Steve. I don't need a babysitter to sleep or wrap my head around needing a physical tomorrow. Or, dealing with the idea of being strapped to my desk."

"Okay. At least text me when you get there." Steve reluctantly demanded, before tapping his watch. Frowning the entire time, he watched as Danny fastened the seat belt firmly across his lap. Out of necessity, his voice raised a bit higher with his final admonition as the engine revved to life and the door virtually closed in his face. "Get some sleep."

"Sure." Moody and perturbed with himself, Danny waved as a way of promise that he would send that short message upon arriving home. He fought his huff all the way there, checking and re-checking the rearview mirror for the big blue truck. Knowing that Steve would treacherously find a way to follow him as he forced himself to stay to the right to drive well under the speed limit; he marveled secretly to himself when he felt the eyes but never spied the ostentatious Silverado. Then once safely in his driveway, Danny didn't move except to dutifully send Steve that short text message before rocking his head forward onto the steering wheel.

He blearily peered down between his knees where he held his phone when Steve's reply buzzed back seconds later. "As if you didn't know," Danny muttered as he read the short reply.

_"Good, Sleep. Call me."_

Unable to smile at the gentle prodding, Danny only closed his eyes again as the steering wheel braced his forehead. There was a dull thud growing like a band across his temple which worsened as the remnants of the warm Hawaiian sun inflicted a furnace-like quality on his car. He was admittedly quite tired too, a fact which only served to substantiate his own reasoning of being overly dramatic. Yet, he couldn't explain the visual disturbances which insistently drew his attention to abstract movement just on the fringes of his periphery.

"I'm just tired," Danny whispered quietly. "Desk duty? What a kick in the teeth." More than anything he wanted to sleep soundly for a long interrupted block of time. He just wasn't sure that was ever going to happen based upon what was becoming a terrifying night-time habit.

With no small amount of trepidation, Danny eventually forced himself to abandon the now too warm Camaro to enter his house. He stood there though just inside the front door without thumbing on the lights; just listening and keeping his eyes relatively acclimated to the gloomy shadows which dusk had begun to create in earnest. It was not an accident either that one hand lay not so casually on the butt of his weapon.

"This is stupid," he griped under his breath. "No one's here. I can sleep. I can." Wearily, he rubbed his face as another dull headache throbbed annoyingly in the center of this forehead.

He had no doubts that the majority of his problems were stress related brought on by tension and fatigue. He also wasn't sleeping well most times. Edgy and growing more tired with every passing hour, he was having difficulty remembering things and losing his attention span. Berating himself once more, he finally flooded his house with light as he slammed the front door solidly closed and engaged the lock.

That single act was the last he remembered until uncomfortably roused in the wee hours of the following morning.

A breeze suddenly caressed his cheek and his response was to shiver from a bone-deep chill. A hum also ebbed and flowed to echo around him both loud and soft at the same time. "Hmm?" Danny groaned, confused by the much too quick need to open his eyes. There was no way it could be time to get up for work, yet whatever was disturbing his sleep persisted in a deeply repetitive sonorous vibration of sound.

 _"Hmm?"_ He objected again to the shadowed presence by his side, only vaguely conscious that his mouth was overly dry and stale, making his next attempt at a disagreeable murmur more of a chore. For a time, the nonsensical thick rumble continued until it became vaguely discernible as speech. The realization urged him closer to consciousness and Danny finally perceived that it was still dark and very early, though a strange illumination surrounded him.

 _"Whu…?"_ He mouthed almost inaudibly, finally understanding there were real words attached to the persistent rumble of sound. Those actual words included his own name said with an urgency he was only now beginning to notice.

"Danny. Danny? You have to wake up." Steve's worried voice was tinny in his ear as one hand urgently rocked his shoulder. The movement drove a spike into his head and pulled annoyingly at a deeper hurt in the back of his neck. He clearly heard his partner, yet it took a mammoth effort for him to squint dazedly into Steve's face.

"Can you tell me what happened?" The question made no sense and Danny blinked slowly, mind fogged by confusion as he allowed his eyes to close once more. His head was thick on a wobbly neck which ached more as he woke. He was sure that he was dreaming and saw absolutely no need to open his mouth.

Another gentle nudge had him groaning. "Talk to me, Danno," Dream-Steve demanded almost too harshly.

"Go… way," he forced the slurred words out, refusing the questions and only wanting to ignore the annoying dream which was bringing on a nuance of real pain. Bone-tired and beginning to sense a real discomfort, Danny sank down deeper only to feel what had to be fingers tighten in warning on his arm.

"No! Hey … Danno! Don't do that … wake up … open your eyes!" The urgency increased as Danny was firmly rocked again and he groaned louder at the ongoing disturbance.

"Do … what?" Eyes still closed, Danny opened his mouth and sucked in a lungful of air, protesting the physical effort it took before he even tried to speak. Surprised then by the roughness of his voice which sounded weak and garbled even to his own ears. He coughed as a sharp pain centered in the middle of his chest, winced at the ache, and then forced his eyes to squint upwards again. "St…Steve? Why are you …. here?"

Barely able to see through his hazy eyesight, Danny squinted harder, even more confused by dream-Steve's state of mounting concern. Fingers tightened on his neck hard enough for him to understand it wasn't a dream and that he was far from being safely buried under the blankets in his own bedroom. Yet for a very long moment, nothing happened. Unable to find his tongue, Danny stared silently into darkly worried eyes before his head bobbed on its own and his slim hold on awareness began to waver. His reward was merely another gentle nudge and the urgent rush of more questioning demands.

"Do you remember what happened? Look at me … Danny. You've been in a fight and you drove to my place," Steve had his right hand firmly cupped around the back of his neck. Those fingers tightened to provide support and the only spot on Danny's clammy skin to feel a semblance of soothing warmth.

Only this touch was something which Danny seemed to continually feel besides the cold. That same soothing breeze which had first touched his cheek now left him shivering. So he tried to concentrate only on the strong fingers which grasped his neck to provide a solid grounding. He fought for purchase to keep from sliding down into nothing as Steve was crouched down to be nearly nose to nose with him.

"Stay awake," Steve urged. "You were in a fight. Who… where were you?"

"Ff…fight? Nnn..no." Danny tried to shake his head, wincing as a slicing pain in his neck coupled with another in his temple. Instead, Steve's fingers tightened again to prevent the movement in reaction to the grimace of pain. Confused, he lifted a shaky hand to his face, stunned when his fingers refused to work and a deep ache settled into his wrist. Persisting though, he touched his face coming away with smeared streaks of sticky blood. Danny scowled in confusion, fuzzily aware that something had happened. Something he couldn't remember.

"Where?" He pushed out as his hand fell limply to his lap. A fierce battery of blinking did little to clear his vision and he could only stare stupidly at the Camaro's steering wheel. Even supported, the tilt to his head was excruciatingly slow as he found Steve, frowning as the glow from the dashboard lights lit them eerily in the otherwise pitch darkness. "Where … am I?"

"My place. You're at my house," Steve swore softly under his breath at the ongoing depth of Danny's confusion. His hand was still wrapped around the back of Danny's neck not only to try to focus him, but also to prevent him from moving too much. It was near three o'clock in the morning and he had heard the Camaro pull up. At the time he was both worried and yet honestly relieved that Danny had possibly reconsidered his offer to stay for a few days until Doctor Ramirez could evaluate his condition. But the last thing he expected was to find Danny beaten, battered and virtually unconscious behind the wheel.

"Do you remember what happened? Do you remember how you got hurt?" Questioning was going to be useless, nonetheless Steve persisted as he waited for the ambulance to arrive. Basic triage had easily revealed the badly bruised abdomen, at least one cracked rib, bruised knuckles and no doubt, a severe concussion from at least two blows to his head. A much too rapid pulse and the cold slick sheen covering Danny's face and neck were testament to the shock his system was experiencing.

"I'm … bleeding?" Mesmerized by his fingers, Danny grimaced when he tried to shift in the car. His stomach and chest were consumed by a fiery ache making him cough again. The coughing rattled his head bringing the sharp pain splintering from the base of his skull down through where Steve's fingers embraced his neck.

"Yeah, Danno," Steve breathed out, worry mounting as Danny's eyes closed. With care, he supported Danny's head when he weakly wilted backwards into the bucket seat.

"Don't move, buddy. Let me check you out." Eying the blood which steadily streamed down his cheek from the wound on his temple, Steve gently removed his fingers to ghost over the fresh injuries. Heat and bruising were rising under the deep cut and the flow of blood was fresh to soak the collar of Danny's soiled t-shirt.

"How did you manage to get here?" Speaking just above a murmur, Steve shed his t-shirt, balled it up and held it gently Danny's temple to cover the ragged gash. If he didn't know better, the injury was from a broken bottle and he worried anew about other hidden wounds. There was no doubt that Danny was in ever-increasing pain based upon the shuddering panted breaths which also were much too shallow.

"Just … don't move … EMS will be here any second," he insisted as Danny suddenly tried to shift his seat again.

"M'fine. Don't need … don't need … help," Danny complained. Pain was now sneaking in more and more though, with the urge to cough aggravating each part of his body. Peering out through half-shuttered eyes, he aborted another attempt to move his head which ended in a surprised hiss.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked, instantly attentive as he ran the fingers of his free hand over Danny's bruised chest and abdomen.

"Neck." The knife-like pain flared instantly through his skull to lance sharply down into his neck. He was still unable to focus his eyes as his disrupted vision danced erratically over Steve's face. His breath choked in fear and he lost his voice when it ebbed to nearly a whisper as pain and true exhaustion attacked him now in earnest. "My … head. Steve … was I in an accident?"

"I think so, Danno," Steve muttered with no recourse to attempt any form of reason. "Don't move your head … I don't know what happened to your neck, buddy. So … hang in there for me."

It was a miracle that his partner had made it to him; Steve just prayed there wasn't a wake of injured or dead he was still unaware of somewhere behind whatever route Danny had traveled that night. But he'd make his calls as soon as the ambulance arrived. Urgent calls would be made to HPD, the other half of his team and most definitely Doctor Ramirez. Until then, he had no intention of moving.

Using his one hand to anchor the ruined t-shirt to the bloody wound, Steve stood hunched over so that he could lean into the car in order to use his free hand to support the opposite side of Danny's head. He could hear the sirens from the main road now and he would allow those experts to move his partner out of the confines of the Camaro to backboard and gurney. Until then, Steve would argue with him to stay awake and limit his feeble attempts at moving.

"Stay awake. Try to stay with me," Steve urged as Danny began to quiet under his hands with an unnatural stillness. He was trying to obey, but losing as shock and pain warred in a body that was already so incredibly abused.

"Look at me," Steve continued to beg. There was a soft moan, followed by a deep tremble which ran through Danny's chest, but that was all as he silently mouthed something into the air. "No, no. No … come on, Danny. Look at me … stay with me here."

Sirens were drawing closer and though no amount of pleading helped, Steve kept his undivided attention on his partner as his eyes vainly fluttered, only to slide shut again.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	6. Chapter 6

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Six**

"I want a full blood count, metabolic panel and a tox screen. As soon as he's stabilized, I want him completely run through the donut —I want an end to end CT Scan of his head, neck, chest and abdomen." Barely dressed properly for the wee hours of the morning, Ponch met them at the hospital claiming Danny as his own and persistently demanding access to the people, tools and methods he deemed necessary for evaluation and treatment. Paired with not understanding what had happened to Danny, another problem was the hospital itself. While Ponch had an affiliation to the facility via his clinic, what he was demanding overstepped many of those administrative boundaries. Therefore, where professional medical courtesy faltered, Five-0 prevailed to use every viable reason to allow their doctor his access. Making matters worse, it was much too early to have the results back in hand for the tests he'd drawn in his own clinic. With little in hand, Ponch had no established baseline on Danny. But there were no doubts in what he needed to place into motion at that very minute.

Still unconscious, Danny lay on a gurney in the emergency room oblivious to the hectic pace rotating in earnest around him. In shock and suffering from a multitude of injuries, his weakened state and confusing display of symptoms at first gave Ramirez precious little to chance. Treating the obvious first, Ramirez focused on the tenuous balancing act of stabilizing Danny's fluctuating vital signs as blood was drawn for testing.

"Put a rush on that tox screen and I want his liver and thyroid both checked out," Ponch murmured while once more evaluating Danny's oxygen saturation, poor respiration and arrhythmic heart beat. He paused chuffing in exasperation over Danny's bruised knuckles and swollen fingers which gave testament to the fight he'd been in. "X-ray his hands too; he has at least two broken fingers on his right."

Not so far in the back of his mind, he was replaying Danny's earlier consult and now putting two and two together for an alarming conclusion. Yet now, his personal reflections made sense and for that reason, Ponch was very concerned.

"What are you thinking?" The hospital's chief attending, Doctor Lemke, asked as they struggled to balance their patient's flagging system. "Are you sure he isn't a user … or went out looking for a hit … maybe found himself some trouble? A personal buy gone bad?"

Stiffening with anger, Ponch whirled on his peer with a sharp hiss of anger. "Absolutely not! I'd suggest keeping that sort of opinion entirely to yourself." He couldn't help his outraged snapping at the man which caused at least two of the ER nurses to worriedly pause in their tasks. Now eye to eye with his colleague, he had to force himself to accept the man's silent apology communicated by the two hands which were raised in obvious supplication.

"Detective Williams is not a drug user in any way, shape or form," Ramirez retorted in a more acceptable tone of voice. "In fact, he was just in my own offices for a consultation with the oddest of complaints."

"Alright," Lemke apologetically relented before voicing his true, and quite valid motives offering his vindication. "Listen, I was only looking for a reason behind what's happened in order to help identify what we're dealing with here.

Softening in kind, Ponch nodded to accept the fair attempt at reasoning which now had become an apology. Only he and Steve knew of Danny's earlier concerns; if his place were switched with Lemke, he might have attempted similar conclusions.

But not in this case; not here with Danny. In this instance, one usually very astute Doctor Alfred Lemke, Chief of Staff, couldn't be further from the truth.

"I'm considering something quite out of the ordinary," Ponch murmured privately, nodding again when Lemke leaned forward with a perplexed look on his face. He completely believed that they were dealing with a very peculiar issue. An issue neither Danny nor Steve had previously considered because it was so far from the norm.

Maintaining his voice just above that of a murmur, Ponch shared his burgeoning theory only with Doctor Lemke. The precise details of this opinion would be delivered in-depth to Steve and the rest of the close-knit team. "The detective may have been poisoned or drugged against his will … likely even without his knowledge and for an ongoing period of time."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Three hours later every demand lobbed at the foot of administration was duly compounded by Ponch's stunning announcement of the initial toxicology results and backed by the professional courtesy of Doctor Lemke. The protective detail soon to be put in place by Five-0 added import to their earlier mandates and the hospital simply acquiesced as the stakes rose exponentially.

"Someone's poisoned him?" Chin immediately jumped on the implications of the doctor's findings. "Someone's trying to kill him?"

"You all would know for certain based on your jobs," Ponch agreed, somewhat hesitant to make such a verbal accusation though his own feelings were comparable. He could only rightly focus on his own expert area. The Five-0 team would be tasked with what he now proffered as a very real attempt on his patient's life.

"The traces of triazolam in his system are significant - at least to me. Add in the LSD, and things are beyond reason for any number of reasons besides the fact that there's not a single injection site anywhere on his body."

"LSD?" While his mind faltered over the implications of the first and somewhat familiar sounding drug group, Steve was at a momentary loss as he stared at the older doctor over the second. "What do you mean … LSD? Did you really just say that?"

The three men had just spoken not more than a day earlier, but this was the farthest from any one of their minds. Not wanting to believe what Ramirez had just stated, Steve knew his question was going to be utterly ridiculous. Yet he needed to know; he needed to be sure he understood every word coming from the doctor's mouth. "Could this .. what you're finding now … be the cause of what we discussed earlier?"

Steve had been cursing himself since finding Danny in his driveway and he knew Ponch's answer to his stupidly redundant question before voicing it. Hindsight wasn't only twenty-twenty; it was a cruel enough reality to nearly kill his best friend. Waiting impatiently just outside the emergency room, he had provided both Chin and Kono the facts around Danny's consultative visit to Ramirez. He had given them enough of the worrisome details so that the team would be able to protect their friend based upon whatever Ramirez had to say. Now they all ranged around the big doctor in that protective huddle as they absorbed the startling news.

Steve glowered angrily when Ponch made an affirmative sound in back of his throat before speaking. "Yes. Definitely, the side effects of these drugs can be quite significant."

"Wait a minute. Halcion?" Eyes narrowed as his brain viciously multi-tasked, Steve suddenly realized that he had heard of triazolam. Its more common name had finally teased itself out to his tongue. "Triazalom is also known as Halcion. How in the hell could that be in Danny's system?"

"The side-effects can be very severe," seconded Chin with a stunned blink. He glanced at Steve meaningfully because of the scale of the argument from just a few days before. He flinched when Steve's angry eye swung his way in kind, because now it almost made sense. Almost, but not quite. "Mood swings, aggression … not to mention hallucinations."

"Yes, you're both right," agreed Ramirez. "Halcion or triazalom is in a class known as a sedative-hypnotic and as such, meant for very controlled and fairly short-term treatment. There have been instances of user sleep-walking, and even sleep-driving. Which seems to be Danny's primary complaint …along with memory loss."

"He could have died tonight," Kono couldn't help gasping out loud. The situation which Steve had explained and now what the doctor was summarizing was mind-boggling. "What about this fight or whomever might have attacked him? We need to find out if it's all related, or if something else could have happened."

Her voice trailed off for a moment as the four looked at each other silently weighing the potential magnitude of what they might learn. Danny was beaten but he might have grievously injured another party. They didn't have enough information and so far, there were no early police reports regarding fights, accidents are any type of altercations.

"I don't understand the link between these drugs and how you found him, Steve," Kono whispered, literally wincing at her next question. "Who would want to do this to him … and why?"

"My personal opinion is that the link is only Danny, himself. The fact remains that he's being repeatedly drugged and it seems to be the impetus to what he's been experiencing," Ramirez offered one final portion of his own views. "It's the reason for his recent mood swings and memory loss. This time when he left his home though, I'm guessing that he found real trouble … or, trouble found him. With his special skills-set, let's just hope there's no one else out there injured or even worse."

"No kidding," Chin softly agreed. Nothing was making any sense and they simply didn't have enough information. "He could have, Doc, but this trouble could even have gone down at his house; we have no idea."

Chin glanced to Steve, not surprised when his words caused a dark scowl. The concept was a dubious one at best and if something had happened at Danny's house, the self-recriminating expression which fleetingly passed across Steve's face would become problematic.

"I don't think he was attacked there," Steve finally said. "But we'll check it out; no matter what, we're going to treat his house like a crime scene."

"In all my years, I've never seen anything this elaborate." Ramirez shook his head before slamming his hands even deeper into his lab coat pockets. "All I can tell you that he had one hell of a bad trip from drugs he ingested. My warning to you is that he will not remember a single thing; he will be of no help to you in understanding what really occurred or where. I can also easily tell you all that anything could have happened and it's a blessing he at least found a way to get himself to safety."

The aggrieved sigh that Steve heaved in filled his lungs and he expelled the air in a hard rush. "So what you're also implying is that he was exposed through some sort of inhalant system or managed to ingest these drugs through food or drink? All of this without his knowledge … for what could have gone on for weeks?"

Steve stared in disbelief as the doctor rocked on his toes with an agreeable, though very distressed, nod of agreement. In response, Steve softly snarled hours worth of worry before roughly tugging his fingers through his hair. "This is impossible … absolutely impossible."

He didn't need to voice his perplexed next questions related to who, why or how it had been accomplished; they would be focusing on those dire questions even before Ramirez completed his medical summary. Steve almost too blandly watched as Kono began rapidly paging and typing through on her tablet. The tool was a permanent part of her body and she used it with ease for their benefit. He watched her for a long moment, considering their best options and next moves before realizing there was much more.

"What about the rest of it … what about his other physical injuries?" Steve pushed out through gritted teeth. "Ponch? How bad is he hurt?"

Ponch was silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts before starting with the worst of Danny's physical woes. "He has a grade three concussion, two fractured ribs, bruised collarbone, and two broken fingers on his right hand. The laceration on his temple was likely caused by broken glass … probably a bottle … it's been stitched. He has another significant contusion on the back of his head and deep bruising from some sort of blunt force trauma across his shoulders and neck. His cervical vertebrae is also bruised."

"He was pushed into something? Like a wall?" Kono asked carefully, grimacing when the doctor sighed in agreement.

"Pushed is a kind word, Kono. Either quite literally hit … or thrown into that something is more likely," Ponch corrected her. "Whatever happened caused the concussion and added trauma to his neck and upper back."

"Hit?" Steve asked, scowling as another possibility came forth. "If we confirm the attack wasn't inside his home, could he possibly have been hit by a car?"

"No," Ponch disagreed. "A car accident is highly unlikely. He doesn't have any injuries to his hips or legs. The large majority of Danny's injuries are consistent with a brawl … a one on one bare-fisted fight … and I think he may have lost. If he didn't lose, I'd hate to see the other guy because Danny is a mess right now and the contaminants in his blood stream are doing him no favors. Regardless of what happened, I'd say that he bit off a great deal more than he could chew."

"We need to find out what happened. Make sure no one else was injured …. or worse." Steve closed his eyes as he tried to settle not only his nerves, but also to organize his churning thoughts. Part of what they would focus on included understanding if Ramirez was right in that Danny had found trouble. Or, if his injuries had also been part of an elaborate staging. They were left with limited recourse, but what they could do was enough to at least begin an investigation. Even if the first step necessitated violating Danny's privacy.

"Chin, get to Danny's house with a full crime scene unit. I don't care if it looks pristine when you get there. Lock it down and tear it up from top to bottom. Anything that looks, smells or feels remotely suspicious needs to be fully investigated for contaminants."

"It's covered," Chin affirmed. "If anything is there, we'll find it, Steve."

"Kono, get a protective detail in here and then stay in touch with Duke and other local hospitals. I want to know if anyone is admitted with injuries similar to Danny's … anything that hints of a brawl. Follow up on complaints, police calls .. anything from tonight that he could have been involved in. When you're done with that, see if any traffic light cameras identify the Camaro in the sectors nearest his home and work outwards from there. Back-track routes from my house as an alternative." Steve ordered, ticking things off in his head.

"Two uniforms arrived five minutes ago and they're already stationed outside the ICU. They're waiting on direction," Kono stated, multitasking to increase her level of interaction with HPD. So far, nothing had been reported that evening but she would widen her net. "I'll start making those calls and check in with dispatch and local traffic control. Do you know if he had his weapon on him? Or, his badge? Wallet? Anything?"

"No. He had nothing on him." Steve pursed his lips angrily at the important reminder, rounding on Chin who was coordinating with the crime scene unit.

"Chin, call me after you check his house. I need to know what you find; I especially need to know if his service revolver and badge are missing. There was nothing on him or in his car."

The two cousins were already on their mutual cell phones and on the run when Steve turned anxiously back towards Ramirez. "Can I see him?" More demand, it wasn't an actual question and to Steve's utter displeasure, Ponch paused long and hard before answering.

"I don't know, Steve, he's not lucid." The enormity of Ponch's remark wasn't lost on Steve. Five-0 and HPD could have their security detail, yet the sheer fact that the doctor was seriously considering denying him access to see his partner was telling. "Even if he were more coherent, he's not going to be of any help to you."

"I understand that, Doc." Steve insisted, fearing a collision of wills when Ramirez frowned and seemingly shook his head. "I do… but I need to see him."

"They're just settling him in the ICU." There was a long moment of silent consideration before the older man gave a hesitant nod. "Alright, but Danny's not even close to being lucid … he's completely out of it."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	7. Chapter 7

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**Chapter Seven**

Elise walked in on those she considered her peers as they were settling the latest patient into the ICU. The careful transfer from gurney to bed had already been coordinated and the qualified registered nurses were busily checking intravenous and connections to medical devices. Cocking her head curiously, she murmured a welcome to the stationed HPD officers but didn't question them. Her assumption was merely that they were guarding an injured prisoner as she blandly watched the goings on as the patient was duly made comfortable.

As a nursing health services assistant, she was just returning from escorting a critical care patient to a high priority MRI. Her diverse role was a necessary adjunct to the medical staff where she assisted in a variety of duties such as helping to turn patients to ensure their comfort while bedridden, helping them into wheelchairs and assisting with exercises. In the ICU, on some occasions, Elise might be asked to take and record vital signs, monitor nutrition and hydration, or to report changes in a patients' mental or physical condition to other members of the medical staff. But lacking the significant required credentials, she was not ranked as, nor considered a real nurse.

Returning now from the radiology wing of the hospital, she had only time to glance through the general reports and so, didn't realize who the man was until that moment. Gazing in surprise at his bruised face, Elise smiled in pure delight.

"Hello, Daniel," Elise breathed out softy when she eased nearer his bedside. He was in a twilight stage of consciousness, grimacing from pain and discomfort as she leaned over the bed. "Imagine finding you, of all people, here."

Elise quickly glanced around to ensure her few seconds of privacy. The orderlies were on their way out and the nurses had just ensured the detective's relative comfort. She had a few secluded seconds of time to act quickly. So with no one truly paying her heed, she ran one hand gently through his hair just near the clean white line of the bandage.

"So, here you are my dear, dear Daniel." She lingered by his temple, grinning when he tried to wince away from pressure that was intentionally pressed too firmly on the tender spot. Stopped from moving by a strict cervical collar, his face stayed painfully pinched as he feebly failed at dislodging her hand. Elise was ecstatic as proof of her vile plans lay so helplessly in front of her. Further opportunity now presented itself and she hugged it warmly to her mind's eye with glee.

"Did he leave you again? I think he did … he left you … but I'm here to keep you safe. He tried to kill you by abandoning you to emptiness. But, I'm back now so you don't fail again, Daniel." She intentionally said long-ago learned words used to program and defile. "Open your eyes. Open them, Daniel."

She repeated the words in a hasty rushed exhale of sound. Elise was quiet but succinct. She uttered words she knew must lay deeply buried, yet not forgotten in Danny's psyche.

 _"Open them."_ He knew the woman's voice on a visceral level and Danny's brow furrowed in distress. The voice brought pain and which was proven when it lanced through his head without easing for long seconds on end. Her demand was clear and he tried to obey from a base trained response. The effort it took for Danny to open his eyes was astronomical, yet her voice forced him to …. her voice _demanded_ that he look.

"I'm your nurse, Daniel. Do you remember me?" The woman over him whispered in pleasure when he managed to peel his eyes apart. Uncertain of what to do, he lay there gazing hazily up into her face.

Elise sniffed in regret when she saw no recognition in his eyes. But she could only imagine that his vision was grayed, doubled and lost in an alarming shimmer of blurred light, so she tried something else more sinister. "Do you remember what happens when you fail? See how badly you hurt now… do you feel how badly your head hurts now, Daniel? "

Her fingers pressed hard just once, and he groaned when pain sliced through his head again. It was part and parcel with her voice; of that he was positive as a murky memory came forth and she continued her rapidly whispered threats. "Why didn't you do it?"

"No, yes…" Danny murmured in confusion. "Stay… stay away from… me." He blinked and the closed his eyes, missing her hatred when he spurned her care. He didn't see the white-lipped anger as he once again rejected his special nurse. However, her next rush of soft words clearly reminds him.

"You know what will happen if you push me away again, Daniel." The heat in the woman's voice carried a dangerous promise and Danny swallowed reflexively. "I won't allow it."

"No," he slurred once more. His hand flailed weakly and he grimaced when his splinted broken fingers connected with the side of the bed rail. He thought he remembered then still wasn't certain as his brain misfired and he fell into denial.

"Can't … not … hurts,'' His stomach clenched fearfully as she chanted soft memories of his failures while loitering over the position of his pillow and wasting time as if checking his intravenous. There was something that was growing in familiarity, and yet still so dimly elusive to allow him reprieve.

"Yes, Daniel. You have to finish McGarrett or _pain_ happens again. You have to finish your job," Elise murmured, thrilled with her dissembling as his stress increased and barely intelligible words were sloppily slurred. But she glanced over her shoulder hurriedly as activity increased in the hallway and the tell-tale sound of baritone voices came her way. Time was up and she needed to resume her other duties as one of the ICU's nursing assistants.

"Remember." With one added ounce of pressure to drive her point home, Victoria pressed ruthlessly near Danny's recently stitched wound. "You can't fail … it hurts when you fail, Daniel. Don't forget who will keep you safe … what you need to do to keep yourself safe. You. Need. Me."

"Please. No," Danny slurred under his breath. Unable to truly focus, he gagged and then moaned as the ache increased in his head.

Safe? She wasn't safe … he wasn't safe and didn't need her … something was wrong and he began to panic.

Her hand was there on his face and then his head. She was too close and then she was hurting him. That combined with his much too recent injuries worsened his feelings of helplessness and loss.

"You can rest now, Detective," the woman suddenly intoned in just a slightly more conversational voice. "I'll advise your doctor that you're uncomfortable." Her fingers disappeared from his hair and he nearly sobbed in relief, yet he continued to squirm in agitation. Gasping for air and frustrated by his feelings, Danny flailed helplessly in the bed.

He knew her … he thought he should but his mind refused to cooperate … his senses only knew that her presence spelled danger.

"Can't," he whimpered as his eyes briefly closed. "Can't … go back … please."

With his head throbbing, he remained agitated when the woman vanished. He tensed instantly though when her looming hazy pale face was replaced by two imposing shapes causing him to involuntary flinch. Despite the pain he was inflicting upon himself, Danny continued struggling even after his left hand was grasped firmly and another large hand found his shoulder.

"Easy, Danno, you're okay. Where can't you go?" Steve brushed past a few of the medical staff in the hallway, noting the HPD partners following in his wake. However, he completely ignored all of them in his anxiety when he heard the pained moans and sensed the tension flowing off his partner. He only heard comments in his passing and made directly to Doctor Ramirez that the patient was upset and appeared to be in pain. Focused solely on his friend, Steve strode quickly into the room, softly pleading and intercepting Danny's free hand as it floundered helplessly by the bed's rail.

"Relax…. take it easy. You're okay … everything's fine," Steve tried to calm Danny, but a glance towards Ponch had him swallowing hard at the doctor's hurried sternness. Orders were called out and a nurse was sent scurrying to the pharmacy. "You're not going anywhere, Danno. You're safe here. I promise that you're safe."

But if Steve had expected his words to have a calming effect on his friend, he was sorely mistaken as Danny suddenly heaved painfully, clutching tightly onto his hand.

 _"We will keep you safe."_ The nurse's and a loud male voice boomed in his mind and Danny clearly saw it now; he saw the desolate island and the rooms made to look so much like a hospital. He sensed an old pain and gasped aloud as stronger memories began to surface, leaving him to fail at understanding what was real.

_McGarrett._

_He hurt you._

_And then he left you to die._

The images rolled back in a frightening flurry of shattered colors in a completely nonsensical order. They slammed into him relentlessly with a real physical consequence and he tried to twist away from them all in the bed.

_Use the gun._

_If you kill him, the pain won't return._

"No," Danny croaked in alarm, bruised knuckles showing a rainbow of colors as he clung to Steve's hand for all he was worth. Yet he panicked still, as another set of hands joined in the growing fray to literally pin him down to the bed. His legs scrambled for purchase in sheets now mussed and tangled as machines trilled their warnings to his growing struggle to breathe and erratic heartbeat. "No … not safe … doctor … he's back. I can't fail. _Steve_."

The new flux of voices were loud but Danny didn't understand any of the words which buffeted back and forth around him. He only only knew that he was trapped and in pain as a number of warning alarms went off in the hospital room. The sudden warmth which flooded his system was all too familiar and Danny went down fighting in a blind frightened haze of terrible memories.

"I'm sorry, Steve," Unable to look up, Ponch was busily checking Danny's vital signs after administering a low dose of sedation. A medication more benignly suited to its job and not harmful to his patient's beleaguered system.

"He's not coming out of this very well … he's having a hard time. I shouldn't have allowed you to see him just yet."

However, Steve wasn't entirely listening to the man. Frozen in place and watching as Danny's fingers slowly unraveled from his own, he willed his ears not to have heard what his partner had repeated in such a broken voice. He fought against having witnessed his partner's terrified loss of control against being medically treated as he recognized the fear for what it seemed to signify. In fact, Danny had exhaled his name as if a plea.

"Morse? Vincent Morse?" Steve whispered to himself, eyes trained solely on the tight strain still so evident across Danny's face despite having been sedated. The pain and fear were obvious as machines continued their warning trills and hospital staff swarmed the room. The distressed expression mirrored that from well over a year ago when he'd been abducted and brainwashed relentlessly. And now that old terror seemed to have returned.

"Why would you dredge that up? Why would you go back there, Danno?" His guarded mutterings continued as he was forced aside. Refusing to move much farther than the foot of the bed though, Steve only slipped away as a registered nurse helped Ramirez to carefully make their patient more comfortable. He watched as they both double-checked bandages and then attempted to straighten out twisted bedding.

Rapt in replaying Danny's frenetic outburst, Steve was vainly trying to wrap his head around what could be a terrible truth. He was not so willing to ignore that old threat this time; based upon the proof of the past, he was not inclined to ignore it at all.

"Morse and his brother are both long dead … it can't be what you meant." Whispering under his breath while staring in disbelief at his partner, Steve was still wanting to be incredulous. Yet he didn't dare since Morse had already proven that anything could be possible.

Too softly for anyone else to hear, he moved closer to drop his fingers back to Danny's shoulder when the nurse finally moved aside. Even sedated, Danny was restless and unsettled; distressed enough for Ramirez to remain in close attendance.

"You're just confused … you have to be. That lunatic is dead; I know for a fact that he's dead," Steve murmured.

Standing over his partner, Steve might have whispered those logical words, but past experience proved reason meant nothing.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	8. Chapter 8

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Eight**

With confidence to spare, Elise made herself scarce as more qualified medical staff worked to settle the agitated detective. She remained just in the wings to help out where needed if beckoned. Her only effort was to prevent the smile from breaking out across her upturned lips now that full proof of her plan was handed to her on a silver platter.

Since she wasn't known to Five-0 or to HPD, she didn't need to leave the hospital. Being so close to the Five-0 Commander unexpectedly affected her on a physical level though. She was trembling in a hot rage as they brushed by each other in the hallway because he had killed Louis. He had been the reason for Vincent's initial desire for revenge, which was now Elise's mantle to carry.

In his act of retribution, Vincent had used the detective to make due on his vow to take a brother for a brother. His elaborate scheme had begun with subtle messages left for the Five-0 Commander; messages that hadn't been taken seriously resulting in the detective's subsequent disappearance. The game had been well-thought out and orchestrated with an evil perfection. Elise knew that to be true because she had been there nearly every step of the way. She had been the methodically recorded voice used to taunt and subvert the detective during incessant brainwashing sessions. Time and again, her voice had echoed relentlessly in his lone small room. But her other role had been that of his supposed nurse within that same trapped, windowless space. A nurse so dedicated to his care between each traumatic even which had left him weak and eventually malleable to suggestion.

Yet for all the diligent effort and time spent on debasing the detective's will, at the critical time, Williams hadn't killed McGarrett. Instead, Williams had turned on her brother and shot him within the boundaries of the makeshift hospital. Devastated by her loss, Elise had remained nearby as the detective recovered. She had waited to at least see if the final trigger would be pulled. Elise was there on the beach when it happened. Never far, she had watched in joy as McGarrett pulled the near-drowned detective from the sea. She had been there with her first older Golden Retriever, Brand. Brazen enough at the time to allow the overly friendly Brand to lope towards the two men as she herself ran forward as if to help. She then dutifully made that emergency call for an ambulance as if she were a concerned citizen. For all intents, the game had ended there because Williams had overcome this last thread of evil. Elise had heard that too with her own ears before fading away amongst the small group of rainy-day beachside gawkers.

More than a full year later, depression and loss had eventually scalded Elise to action. She'd spontaneously relocated from the mainland based upon stirrings to make due on Vincent's promise. While she was as canny as her brother, Elise had far different skills and less villainous contacts to draw upon. She would need to rely solely upon herself in order to contrive to do the same via very different methods.

Elise watched the goings on from the sanctity of the nurse's station. Eyes wide and ears perked open, once more she surveyed her prey. She was angry and hateful as she hid in plain sight, knowing she didn't need to make a spectacle of herself or become overtly visible.

"Elise?" Still, she whirled as if burned when her name was called out by another nurse. "Are you busy? Can you lend a hand over here?" She nodded quickly, dabbing at her face to blot away the slight beads of moisture dampening her forehead.

"Yes, of course," Elise responded. "I'm coming now." With a coy strut which hid her anger, she eased away to help mind other patients in the critical care unit. For all of the potential risk though, she would remain there taking up space and working. She would work and blend to near invisibility as she eaves-dropped and waited.

Elise of course knew what the toxicology results would be and she knew the prescribed medical protocol. The wrinkle in her plans was the detective's physical condition where the beating or fight he'd been in would hinder his recovery and limit his ability to fire a weapon. He certainly wouldn't be returning to work anytime in the near future. Still, she smiled happily as she entered the next patient's room. Oftentimes, the unexpected was a gift. A beautiful surprise which was being played directly into her hands. She needed to learn and adapt because control in a successful game was knowing when to strike. She wasn't foolish enough to try something in the hospital and so, she would bide her time patiently. The bulk of her plans would progress after the detective was released. Until then, she would use his proximity to her advantage to plant vile seeds of self-doubt and fear. She would remind him at opportune moments of her brother, Vincent. Of what could be done to him should he fail a second time.

Smiling to herself, she worked the rest of her shift without incident casually checking patients' records on her way out, but committing Danny's most current medical reports to memory. He'd been sedated by the visiting clinic's physician and Elise nearly giggled. Her first caustic prompts at the downed detective had already been catastrophic to his condition.

Even incoherent and desperately ill, his base reaction proved he remembered on a very useful level.

Confirming her schedule for the week and bidding her friends good day, Elise calmly left the ICU. With a beaming smile on her face, Mrs. Victoria Elise Morse-Wells went home to celebrate with her beloved, Silas.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Ten minutes after Danny's emotional and physical breakdown, and just twenty minutes after Chin had left the hospital, Steve was frantically calling the man in private.

"Change in plans, Chin." With the HPD officers steadfast in his place and Ramirez mandating his partner's care, Steve had jogged out to his truck to ensure he wasn't over heard. Though he clearly understood that Danny was compromised and far from thinking clearly, Steve didn't dare take the chance as his gut instinct took over. There was more than a strong possibility that Danny's aversion was related to the hospital itself. Ramirez might be very correct in his wise assessment. The sterile smells and bright lights could easily marry with vaguely remembered trauma. Despite that strong possibility, Steve was on guard and unwilling to shirk any possibility, no matter how remote it might be.

"Danny's car is in my driveway; have CSU process the Camaro. But I want only you to discreetly go through his house first and look for signs of trouble. If something happened there, then bring in CSU. If not, I want you to box anything that looks suspicious and deliver it personally to the lab. Check for his service revolver, wallet and then everything we've discussed that might have been tampered with." Steve ordered.

 _"Whoever did this … you think they might come back?"_ Chin mused, impressed by the idea to slightly alter their plan of action. It made sense and if their perpetrator didn't know about Danny's issues that night, they might very well return.

"I realize we don't know if you'll find anything at the house, but we need to assume that you will," Steve said, but the hope that whomever had done this would return was evident in his voice. "It's the only thing that makes sense. Where else, Chin? These drugs have to be planted in his house. In the kitchen? Maybe even something in the bathroom? Check it all."

 _"Consider it done,"_ Chin replied, his own mental wheels turning in rampant circles as Steve described Danny's vague half-waking state. He scowled into the phone when he was reminded of the Morse brothers and how the team had nearly lost Danny permanently.

_"But they're dead … who could possibly be leveraging that vendetta and why? Other than this phantom nurse ... how would anyone even know about it? It makes no sense. Maybe Doc is right, Steve. It's just a bad traumatic memory dredged up by the drugs; think about how much Danny was shuffled around for tests. In his state, there's no doubt of his confusion."_

"Could be and I certainly thought of those things," Steve admitted, agreeing on one level but disagreeing completely on another. "Ponch could be right, too. It doesn't change the fact though, that someone... phantom nurse or not... could have planted something in Danny's house. Something... these drugs... to intentionally poison or kill him over time; if they come back to do more, I want to be waiting. I want to know what we are up against... and why."

On the other side of the connection, Chin digested the possibilities and nodded to himself. It was apparent that Steve strongly assumed the fight or confrontation had taken place off the property. Nonetheless, the house was a common denominator. Chin's own doubt about Danny's incoherent mutterings seemed to side with Doctor Ramirez when it came to the possibility of the situation tracing back to the Morse abduction. Nonetheless and like Steve, he also wasn't willing to take a chance. And frankly, Steve was more than correct: it didn't matter. The fact remained that their friend had been personally attacked.

 _"If something's there, I'll find it. I'll call you as soon as I know anything,"_ Chin promised before ending the connection.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Donning gloves, Chin's face expressed his disquiet as he tried Danny's front door and found it unlocked. He stood as if a statue on the lintel when the door swung inward on its hinges, eyes and ears primed for movement or noise. In the early morning hours though, the house was deathly hushed with the only movement that of grayish dust motes and their dull glitter through the natural light he partially blocked.

Regardless of the first impression, Chin entered cautiously, noting the continued utter stillness of the place. From habit and with weapon at the ready, Chin silently moved from room to room clearing each and unsurprised to find the home wholly undisturbed. He frowned in Danny's bedroom, simultaneously relieved and perplexed when he saw Danny's wallet, watch, and badge on the tallest dresser. He quizzically cocked his head at the bed which had been so obviously slept in and noted the discarded clothes strewn sloppily across the floor. To him, it appeared as if Danny had come home and gone to bed, only to get up sometime later for his odd late night excursion.

He selected the first of three tall dresser drawers which were partially opened to search for Danny's weapon. His initial thorough search revealed nothing and he moved on. Finding nothing, his skin prickled warningly as he came up empty time and again.

"Gun, Danny. Where would you keep it, brah?" Placing his hands on his hips, Chin visually surveyed the bedroom. He'd gone through each of the dressers and there was little other furniture other than the closet and the gun-safe hidden there, but it seemed unlikely that his friend would keep his weapon so far out of reach. Especially when Grace wasn't visiting or during a time when no guests were anticipated.

There was only one place left in the bedroom and Chin went straight to the small side table where he also spied his friend's untouched cell phone. The table was older and battered. Barely matching anything in the house, he shook his head at what had to be a delinquent garage sale find.

"Here we go," Chin muttered thankfully as he pulled the holstered weapon from the warped top drawer. He checked it quickly, nodding in approval when he found the safety thumbed on and the clip discharged to lay separately next to its solid grip. Mystified by his important finds, Chin fell back into a pensive silence as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket to contact Steve. There was nothing overtly disturbed in the house, yet small things, such as the unlocked front door and abandoned wallet, made no sense. The aura felt strangely wrong as if someone had trespassed before, and he found himself even more on edge despite having located Danny's belongings.

"Everything's here, Steve," Chin reported in response to Steve's anxious query. "The front door was unlocked, but nothing's been obviously disturbed. It looks like he came home and simply went to bed. I'm going to box things up now for CSU. I'll deliver whatever I find personally to the lab and within the hour."

Disappointingly, Kono also hadn't discovered anything through HPD dispatch and she was now en route to the Five-0 offices to use their ample technological tools to view the footage from multiple traffic cameras. With luck, she might be able to identify the Camaro and trace Danny's path that night. Other than that update, Steve's responsive silence was as telling as his own and Chin scowled to himself. There was nothing left to do but to continue as planned, so he ended the call knowing they'd all remain in touch.

Keeping his gloves on, Chin jogged back out to his truck for two boxes to begin a selective removal of items from his friend's home. Each box held a variety of empty plastic bags and a few small containers for liquid evidence. Beginning with the bathroom, he meticulously cataloged and filled the first box with everything from soap products to whatever he thought suspect in the glass-faced medicine cabinet.

The second box he used for the kitchen, beginning with the now days-old carafe of cold, stale coffee. Quickly deciding then to include the dirty mug which had been left in the sink but not rinsed of its blacky stained remnants. With a sharp diligence, he continued to select and bag the most mundane of things which Danny might use most often on a daily basis.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	9. Chapter 9

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Nine**

With his head aching strongly enough to churn his stomach, Danny stared mutely at the dark-haired bowed head. He was baffled by the fact he was in a hospital room and that Steve was dozing just two feet from his side. His next awareness continued to be that of his injured body. Stiff and in a world of hurt from his head down to his abdomen, he felt as if he'd been literally mowed down by a sixteen wheeler.

"Steve?" Danny's ill-used voice cracked as he wheezed out his friend's name. Despite being so hoarsely uttered and just above that of a whisper, the dark head swung up instantly at the sound.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Steve's eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep and compounded by stress as he eased to his feet in one smooth motion. His question was fair, nonetheless cautious, as he measured Danny's face. Earlier wakings had been less than satisfying due to his partner's ongoing state of confusion caused by the concussion and worsened by the residual drugs left in his system.

"You've been out for hours. Ponch went home, but he'll be back later this afternoon. How do you feel?" Steve offered, hesitant to relax entirely until he could better gauge Danny's level of clear-headedness. Once more, he felt the beginnings of disappointment as Danny lazily blinked, completely unable to focus his eyes. Then, the soft reply took much too long; ending on a dismal exhale of a question.

"I don't know," Danny whispered after a long pause, wincing when the cervical collar prevented his head from moving. Cloudy memories poked at the fringes but his mind refused to grasp more than a splinter of light or ghost-like voice and his stomach twisted fearfully. "I was … home?" A baffled frown followed as he lifted his right hand up to his line of sight when he felt the fat, pudgy heat around his swollen knuckles and broken fingers. He stared dumbly at the bruising and splints before resting his hand back on the bed, realizing that his left hand felt only marginally better.

"I was home?" Danny repeated. His head felt as if it were about to split into two and the slightest movements were sending deep tendrils of pain into his neck and upper back. It had happened again and he was petrified to ask as Steve worriedly loomed over him. "What happened? Where … where are we?"

"Hospital. Downtown." Briefly closing his eyes, Steve nodded as he patiently tried what he'd repeated so many times. As before, the easiest was to use Danny's own words and so, that was where he began. "You lost a few hours again; actually, a hell of a lot more than just a few. But this time, it seems as if you got into a fight along the way. You managed to get yourself to my place."

"Fight?" Deep lines furrowed for a moment across his forehead. He vaguely realized that Steve's face had fallen, before he gave his demonstrative expression up for the pain it caused when it pulled on his stitches.

"I don't … remember," Danny whispered repeatedly. He wanted to doubt the truth though every part of his body ached with a vengeance. He wanted to argue Steve's short explanations even though he was hospitalized in what seemed to be an intensive care unit. A hollow feeling of fear formed in the pit of his stomach as his awareness increased and one terrifying stray thought made itself known.

"Did I hurt … anyone?" His voice broke again as he gazed hazily up at Steve. Wracked in pain and now in a hospital bed, it had happened again to surpass any prior experience in spades.

"We don't think so, buddy," Steve replied truthfully with a sickly upset sigh entirely for his partner's benefit. He wanted so much more resolved, but what they were finding was coming in excruciatingly slow dribs and drabs. To add to the insult, Steve had to refrain from asking Danny any probing questions. Plus, there was no way he could easily share the small bits of knowledge which they did have due to his partner's negligible health. His next words were careful as he provided what he felt most reasonable. "Camaro's clean and Kono is checking with HPD for any reports which might fit; but it seems that you might have been the victim. We don't entirely know what happened. At least not yet, but we will."

Danny closed his eyes wearily at the strange news, listening quietly despite his rising sense of dread to Steve's voice while cataloging the severity of each deep ache. It had happened again and this time, he'd been in a fight. Despite how he felt, there was a good chance he had hurt someone badly. To top it off, if Steve was saying that he'd managed to get to his house, then he'd also been driving once more. None of what he was hearing boded well.

"But…," his mouth moved but no other sound came out. Stuck in place and with a true fear growing, Danny didn't understand what was happening or why. And for some reason, he didn't dare feel up to asking when as Steve gently picked up the conversation.

"Ponch is in charge of your care, Danny. I contacted him right away and we're keeping everything quiet. But for now, you need to rest," Steve softly murmured as a look of panic flit worryingly across Danny's face. "We'll get to the bottom of it. I promise that we will."

"Steve," Danny wheezed through the ache in his chest and abdomen. The one word begged for help and understanding. As far as he could remember, he'd taken a shower after work, maybe ... _maybe_ taken two pills for a headache, and then gone directly to bed. Yet, his abused body was undeniably claiming something else with a terrible vengeance. "This … has to stop."

"It will," Steve quietly promised, relieved in no small part as the bulk of Danny's conversation proved he was finally more coherent. Acutely relieved when this new conversation omitted any vague talk of him... Vincent Morse, the crazed trumped-up doctor... from having returned from the dead. So instead of continuing their soft patter, Steve encouraged him to keep his eyes closed so he could sleep. "Don't talk too much. You need to take it easy, Danno."

There was a number of other things on Steve's mind which he pushed aside to focus on his partner and getting him to rest. Some were becoming quite urgent and Steve wanted to share them, but as he saw the flickers of discomfort cross the wan face, it was more than clear that Danny wasn't ready yet. Except for Danny's own traces of blood, the Camaro had been clean. So beyond the gaping hole of time which put Danny in the hospital, explaining the Camaro was the only easy part.

Holding back on sharing the preliminary feedback from what Chin had boxed and delivered to the CSU was already proving to be much more difficult. Steve continually soothed his mind by reminding himself that Danny couldn't yet cope; nor had he discussed the findings with Doctor Ramirez. He had to wait because the lab wasn't done; not nearly done evaluating what Chin had diligently emptied from Danny's refrigerator, freezer and taken from his personal bathroom supplies for inspection.

Chin's alarmed first call to Steve had been only to confirm an as yet unidentified issue with the cold carafe of coffee and dregs from the dirty mug. A subsequent call confirmed additional suspect contaminants in what Chin had taken from Danny's bathroom medicine cabinet. The lab was diligently continuing its work, but their initial cautionary words were more than enough to escalate the team's united level of anxiety.

"Try to sleep," softly whispering under his breath, Steve shook his head in exasperation as his gentle prodding was ignored. More awareness brought with it an increased level of agitation and Danny was searching relentlessly though hours of lost time. As he watched him struggle, Steve regretfully knew that he'd have to tell his partner at least a small portion to quiet his mind.

"Danny, you have only one job right now and that's to rest so we can take care of what's been happening to you," he pressed hard, persuasively encouraging his friend to relax by offering the smallest amount of information. "Kono is working on a few things with HPD and Chin's gone through your house with a fine-tooth comb. Personally. Just Chin, and he's going through some things with the lab."

"How …? I didn't … why …?" Danny tried to persist, but found himself falling silent out of physical necessity. Blearily trying to focus on Steve's face, he waited for the few answers his partner might be able to provide because he could read the tension. Steve's ongoing soft delivery was too dangerously calm; he was being much too careful with him and his demeanor alone ended any attempt at argument before Danny could protest.

"Take it easy. I know and it's okay," Steve gently urged Danny to relax because as infuriating as it was going to be, there wasn't a single doctor who expected Danny to remember any portion of what had occurred. Heaving a sigh for the continual expression of devastation which now included no small modicum of trust, he hesitated before leaning down to take Danny's arm. "We don't have all the details yet, but you were drugged through some of the food and medications in your house … Chin's checking it all out with the lab's help."

"Drugged? In... my house?" Danny murmured, his face pinched in confusion. "How?" The doubt once again began to mount though as Steve carefully filled Danny in with preliminary details of the growing threat. "I don't …understand."

"Listen to me. You're going to rest and let me handle this, Danny," Steve's hand was clasped firmly to Danny's arm as he fought the frightening depths of his mental block. "Please just let me handle this. For the time being, you're in the safest place possible and I plan to keep it that way."

"Safe?" Coughing out the word, Danny's eyes misted over with a terrifying suddenness. Something else had happened, but his brain refused to cooperate. Faint whispers of a familiar woman's voice taunted him without real shape or form. Yet, he knew her and he knew she had been real. "Not … safe. He, no... she. She was here... the nurse." He shuddered then, closing his eyes against darkly remembered taunts.

"Danny? What is it?" Steve's mouth tightened in a worried line as frightening words once more stammered haltingly from his partner. Not related to a male doctor this time, instead a nurse causing Steve to flounder for a moment. Because despite the bewildering set of circumstances, what Danny seemed to suggest was entirely possible. "She who?" Steve urged again. There was no doubt that Danny was more coherent. He was definitely more aware and yet, he remained focused on what Steve suspected was an attack possibly related to Vincent Morse. There was a difference now though and still Steve grabbed at it anxiously.

"A nurse?" He narrowed his eyes at the change. Steve knew he shouldn't ask because he was grabbing at straws. He was taking an enormous risk at planting an erroneous seed, nevertheless he needed something to act upon and so he pushed. "Who was here, Danno? Do you remember a woman... a nurse here in the hospital?"

It was a testament to their friendship that Steve chose to believe the tiniest strands of truth which might be percolating to the surface. He was positive that there was something of value in Danny's splintered memories. As anxious as his partner, he was willing to consider any possibility even if Ramirez wholeheartedly disagreed; and the fine doctor certainly would as Danny vacillated again.

"I don't know." Danny muttered morosely, his eyes fluttered alarmingly as his voice trailed off. His mind churned as violently as his stomach as he fought through memories which were much too distant. Yet one in particular seemed as if it had just happened. Was it a woman? Here, or had he dreamt it? Could it have been his nurse?

"A woman. Maybe," he whispered. "Yes. I know her voice." Danny was woefully drained of energy, waking in yet another strange place and this time, wracked with debilitating pain. The circumstances were all too much and he wearily sagged into the bed with an emotionally distraught expression.

Steve had told Ponch the details behind the old case, the wrongly discounted threats, followed by the subsequent brazen abduction. Morse had a penchant for riddles and games; Danny and the team nearly lost the unfairly played competition even after Danny had been rescued. However, in the doctor's opinion, the memories made sense in a sickly rational manner. The trailers on the island had been fashioned to look like the innards of a real hospital. The bed, supplies, and the few people keeping Danny subdued had all looked and felt like medical personnel. As a traumatic time now unfolded, Ponch only saw the similarities which would cause the mind to dwell. He completely discounted any real benefit or truths behind these memories based upon his patient's dire condition. Steve knew without a shadow of a doubt, Ponch would swear their discussion folly. Ponch would also object loudly to Steve's ongoing encouragement based upon his patient's weakening state.

"It's alright. I'm sorry," Remorseful for pushing so hard as he heard the older doctor's icy warnings in his own head, Steve relented and soothed as his partner's stress ratcheted ever upwards. "We'll talk about it later. We've got security on the door and I'm not leaving tonight."

"It's…not. No." Danny's face fell though as he shakily raised his hand again to touch his temple. She had been there. Swollen fingers found the edges to the bandage and he grimaced. She had hurt him… the nurse from before.

"She was here, Steve," Danny said definitively despite Steve's reluctance to continue the discussion as his bruised left hand began to shake. "I'm sure of it. The nurse … from…. inside _there_." He could imagine that he sounded ridiculous, even so he was positive as he flinched from the tight stitches just below his hairline. Anticipating disbelief when he peered up at Steve, he saw instead only a sincere thoughtfulness.

"Morse's nurse," Steve whispered the man's name, worriedly measuring Danny's reaction before fairly choosing to fairly remind him of the hard facts of the matter. "The female voice on those tapes? Ponch believes you're dredging up past memories …. both brothers are dead … you know that. You killed Vincent Morse yourself."

"Yeah," Danny mumbled as his stomach twisted from his feelings of distress and a strange foreboding. "But …she's…real." His voice was uncommonly low and he slurred his words badly as a harsh throbbing settled relentlessly in his head. Ignoring Steve's soft suggestions to stay quiet, Danny insisted on finishing what he had to say. "She's… here … she hurt me," Danny admitted in a hesitant whisper. "Here … now." Missing the shock on Steve's face, his eyes closed briefly in order to beat down the feeling of nausea sneaking into his stomach.

"I've been here all along, Danno," Steve continued to whisper, now mortified that someone may have made into the ICU without his knowledge. "How could she have hurt you… what did she do? I saw everyone who's been in and out of this room."

Watching Danny struggle so hard dredged up his own past feelings of blame and absolute guilt. Even ill, Danny read Steve's remorse as they seared unforgivingly across his face. He watched as Steve's head swung reactively towards the corridor where two nurses hurried past on their way to another patient's hospital room.

"Danny...," Steve scowled, now eyeing the medical staff suspiciously.

"No," Danny slurred while his left hand flopped feebly on his chest to deny the self-recrimination. "No... time." Steve blamed himself for downplaying Morse's original threats which eventually had resulted in Danny's disappearance. That part was over and he needed Steve's help now. He only needed to be believed in that very moment and Danny wasn't to be disappointed by Steve's next promises as the attention returned his way.

"I know what you mean," Steve vowed as he permitted his surge of guilt to ease and earned a small smile for his efforts. "I do and I'll look into everyone here right away, Danny. I'll turn this place on its ear." No matter who represented this current threat, there was no way in which Steve would be making the same error in judgement twice. He would check into the nursing staff and demand changes. He would do whatever it would take to keep Danny safe and resolve the attacks. "I'll be right here until we figure this out and put an end to it."

"The… nurse?" Behind lids which had drooped of their own accord, Danny forced out his question through a cracked and barely audible whisper. He was growing more fatigued by each passing second and losing his voice to a general weakness. It left Steve to wisely guess the true depths of the question and he nodded reassuringly.

"Yes, I believe you and I'm taking this very seriously because no matter who is doing this …. you're in danger. Anything is possible and I'm not willing to gloss over a single thing you're saying or remembering, Danno. It's not …." Steve abruptly stopped on the word he was going to add, his eyes full of a wounded concern when Danny ended the sentence for him.

"Safe? No." He cringed, tiredly opening his eyes to then sloppily gesture to indicate the aura of the hospital room in an attempt to make his meaning known. However, what Steve could see of the pain in his eyes alone added the desired import, as did his final plea.

"I can't stay … here." He swallowed hard, screwing his eyes closed as bile painfully rose to settle in the back of his throat. It burned and Danny coughed, grimacing as he rattled his head and chest. He sensed Steve moving, knowing that he'd used the bedside remote to summon help. He also knew that his inane request to leave was just that - inane. He was too ill to be going anywhere and his emotional desire to take flight was more than dangerous to his well-being. He knew the coming answer was final based solely upon the apologetic look on Steve's face.

"Sorry, Danny, you need to be here. I'm totally responsible for what happened before, and for that very reason, I'm not going anywhere now," Steve ground out angrily as Danny moaned under his breath about the body-wide ache which he could no longer ignore. Briskly rubbing his hands over his face and palming his eyes until they darkly sparkled, Steve realized the import of what he'd just said. His own stifled moan spoke of a deep distress because he didn't know if he might still be responsible.

"We've talked way too much and you need to rest," Steve whispered. Without needing to think, he viciously thumbed the call button again when he felt the sickly heat through Danny's shoulder. Ramirez was going to have his head if Steve didn't castigate himself first for allowing the conversation to continue on for so long. Yet, what was shared between the two had been entirely necessary.

"I'll be here and we already have HPD at the door," he promised again, hunkering down lower over the bed to offer any type of support he could as Danny's face scrunched uncomfortably. "You're never going to be alone. Not even for one second."

Steve understood his friend's desire to leave the hospital setting; the ornate plans orchestrated by Morse were highly detailed reconstructions down to the bland linoleum floor tiles that a true hospital would have. Then afterwards, the team had often wondered about the elusive nurse. Reconnaissance of the remote hideaway confirmed her existence but left nothing of value to identify the woman. With Morse gone, there was no reason to believe the woman might come back for Danny. Conversely, there was little reason to doubt that she just might have with sickly ulterior motives. In short, this nurse which Morse had employed during his treacherous game had been quite real. And as Steve knew too well after having learned the hard way, they certainly weren't willing to discount certain truths.

"Trust me. I promise that we've got this well in hand. We do." Stationed resolutely over the bed as one of the nurse's came in with Doctor Lemke, the resident attending, Steve kept his hand placed comfortingly on Danny's shoulder. The new arrivals had startled him and the unhealthy heat was soaking up through the hospital gown.

"It's alright. Doctor Lemke is the attending and he understands; he's working with Ponch," Steve swore worriedly under his breath when his friend shrank away from the unknown faces. He stayed visible and lurked over the bed as Lemke _tsked_ and quietly fretted over certain readings. Through it all, Steve remained indomitable as the physician coaxed delayed answers from Danny. Eventually he administered a careful dose of pain medication despite a mild objection which Steve gently over-ruled.

"You're going to be fine, Danno," Steve affirmed when he felt the tremor through his hand. "Pain meds, buddy. Go to sleep now." Firm in his own conviction, Steve stayed on his feet as a reckoning force against any unknown face entering the room even long after Danny fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	10. Chapter 10

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Ten**

_"You're not going to like this, Boss,"_ Kono said as she called Steve directly from the CSU labs. Her first round on the traffic cams had come up empty insofar that she saw the Camaro, but certain other cameras didn't pick up its travels as she'd anticipated. She planned to continue after taking a break to rally with her cousin at the crime labs now that the full report was finalized. While there was no word on a fight or altercation leaving another injured person or even filed complaints, Chin's focus had finally resulted in definite discoveries. Her voice easily gave away the shock which was to come because the reports were now completely final. Behind her too, Chin was vocalizing his anger which only added import.

_"CSU confirmed traces of azopidem in his ground coffee, sugar and salt. The drug was in the coffee pot and found in what was left in his mug. He was ingesting small amounts every morning. Also and without a doubt Danny's over-the-counter medications were replaced with either zolpidem or triazolam,or even a combination of the two. Their findings include the one left-over prescription he had for joint pain after his knee surgery."_

"How?" Steve sharply demanded when Kono continued on to describe what should have been plain OTC medications. In a matter of seconds, he could expect to see the formal findings in his private email to show the doctors. "How exactly was this done?"

Kono was undeniably upset and she hesitated to regain control of the emotion in her voice before explaining how Danny's attacker or attackers had so deviously gone about their business. _"According to the lab guys, the capsules were carefully opened one by one and re-stuffed with finely ground versions of both drugs. One by one. Intentionally."_

"Whoever did this …. knew his habits … they were in his house," Steve replied angrily. This person or persons were studious, patient and fastidious. Keeping to his word, Steve's resolve now only strengthened regarding his self-appointed role in the intensive care unit. "What about the LSD? Was any evidence found?"

 _"Uh … yeah,"_ her latest dismayed pause indicated her own increasing anger at the subterfuge and level of personal attack. _"A liquid form of LSD was pushed into his toothpaste."_

"What?" Steve lost his train of thought at that announcement. Carefully contaminated food and replaced medicinal products and the most innocent of objects left in one's bathroom? Spontaneously, he measured each and every person in his vicinity. It reeked of Morse's evil and yet, the man was dead. Just inside the main doors to the ICU, he eyed the uniformed HPD officers who were both diligently guarding his partner. Despite their presence and knowing them on a professional level, Steve had only returned Kono's call away from Danny's room because Doctor Ramirez had arrived. The older man was in the process of moving heaven and earth to make the most amazing change in his patient's care.

However now, he was momentarily stunned into silence. _"Steve?"_ Kono's voice reached him through the connection, but his ears were buzzing with white noise. _"Steve, are you there?"_

"Toothpaste?" He finally found his tongue, blinking in astonishment as he refocused. The tampered OTC bottles were bad enough, but this finding was unprecedented and he needed to advise the two doctors. "Are you kidding?"

 _"I wish I was … I do. The lab guys have never seen anything like it before,"_ Kono softly replied. _"The idea is so sickly ingenious, the tests were repeated three times to ensure their accuracy. I watched them do it, Steve, and they got the same results. I'm guessing that whoever did this was in Danny's house numerous times. Whoever did this is smart and knows his daily schedule. What they managed to do is methodical and extremely well-planned to have gotten away with for so long."_

Before Steve could weigh in, Kono's tone changed quickly with her next question. Her haste and concern clearly communicated her own desires to keep doing exactly what she was. _"What are we going to do about the case with the FBI?"_

"For one... I'm staying here," Steve's pronouncement was hardly necessary. But he was justly placed on a fine razors edge by the confirmed reports. In spite of its urgency, their active case would have to wait. He saw no recourse with one of his team being attacked so viciously. Danny was correct in that he wasn't safe … he wasn't safe anywhere outside of the team's protection.

"I'll call the Governor about the case; we need step back until this is resolved. I need to have this put to bed first," he stated firmly. "I want these people now. I want this done with now, Kono. We focus on Danny and finding whomever is doing this to him."

The relief from Kono was obvious though she didn't say a word at first. Their reality had been flipped and as such, none would be justly able to focus on progressing with the case with another of their own in such danger. _"I'm going to continue investigating the traffic cams, Boss. I'm sure I can find something to use; it's just taking me longer than I thought. But Chin and I have other plans, too,"_ Kono shared with a particular challenging tone. _"We'll fill you in later but how's Danny doing? Is he …. improving?"_

Unconsciously, a tiny smile lifted one side of Steve's mouth. He weighed her devious sounding words regarding what she and Chin might have up their sleeves, and nodded to himself in approval. They were all indeed quite motivated by what was happening. Motivated to alter the tides of deception and turn a defensive situation to their own offensive benefit.

"Yes and no. The drugs are working their way out of his system, but this has brought back Morse and what was done to him... full force and I can't blame him," Steve softly admitted. He sighed while lamely shrugging in the hospital hallway to no one in particular. Danny had asked again to leave. This time, he had targeted Doctor Ramirez only to yield a patient, yet very negative answer. "He wants out of the hospital … now … he's paranoid … he feels threatened."

 _"I totally get that,"_ Kono muttered into the phone. _"We all feel threatened by this. But he can't leave … right? His head injury alone is severe."_

"No, of course he can't leave," Steve concurred as he watched Doctor Ramirez from where he stood by the main doors. The older man was now outside Danny's room where a small entourage of hospital staff surrounded the ex-TAMC Chief of Staff and the pleasant Doctor Lemke. The tightly huddled group was involved in an ad hoc meeting of sorts; an important meeting related to a very particular patient.

"With his injuries, Danny is nowhere close to being discharged. But Ponch is working on something and damned if that man isn't going to pull it off," Steve remarked softly. One by one, he watched as the intensely murmured conversation released a certain few of the staff. Each then moved away for other duties and Steve managed to find a real smile. Forgetting that he had a phone to his ear, there was a brief silence. A lull in the conversation between himself and Kono until he heard a soft background murmur begin between the cousins.

"What?" Steve interrupted as Chin's voice increased in volume and Kono actually chuckled in approval of whatever he was insisting upon.

 _"Can Doc fine-tune an employee list? Can we get a specific list of everyone who came in contact with Danny starting with the ambulance and then since he got to the hospital?"_ Kono asked, evidently very much on behalf of Chin, who continued to speak in the background. Just out of clear earshot, Steve missed the words which Kono easily supplied. _"Chin's been thinking about this Morse thing, too. Can we ask Doc Ramirez for a list of everyone he might have come across from the ambulance to the time he got into the ICU? Just in case… a few background checks just might help."_

"Tell Chin that he read my mind," Steve smirked. Kono also didn't need to say that Chin meant a particular list of female employees. That part was understood and Steve managed a devilish grin because he planned to make that very request. He found himself needing to bite back a pleased chuckle because they were all so very like-minded. "I already have that on my to do list with Ponch. I'm sure we'll have a thumb drive today."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

When Steve rejoined Ramirez just inside the doorway to Danny's room, the group had broken up with Lemke lurking now by the nurse's station. The older doctor gave Steve a wryly amused grin. He was cheerfully bouncing on his toes too, before falling into a genuine soft round of laughter.

"Do you plan on sharing this little joke of yours?" Eyebrow tilted skyward, there was something about Ramirez's sly smile which Steve didn't precisely trust. "Things worked out with the staffing, right?"

"Yes, of course, but do you know what he remembers?" Shoulders quivering with mirth, Ramirez was indeed laughing now and nearly failing at keeping it down to a reasonable level. "He remembers you following him to his house after our consult."

Brow furrowed in confusion, Steve's jaw worked and then tightened before his lips pursed defensively. But he didn't have a chance to deny not defend himself as Ponch vainly stifled his rising chuckle in his coat sleeve.

"He said: I remember that pain-in-the ass, overachieving Boy Scout following me home," the doctor's eyes glittered merrily over his coat sleeve. His humor was focused on two words as he playfully poked Steve in the shoulder. "Boy Scout, he says."

"Fat lot of good that did him though," Steve huffed through his admission of guilt, though he had to smile a few seconds later. Ponch's good humor was infectious and truth be told, Steve was clueless as to how Danny might have pegged his sneaky maneuvers.

"I was never a Boy Scout," Steve replied indignantly. "Plus there is no way Danny saw me!" He objected around a growing inability to stop smiling when Ponch lost a stray tear down his reddened cheek. "It's not that funny either, Doc."

"Oh, but it is," Ponch snarkily insisted. "Boy Scout!" Still unable to bite back his laughter, he shrugged helplessly when Steve dramatically rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. Ramirez snuffled loudly to beat down his laughter while he dabbed at the moisture in his eyes. "He's sleeping right now, Steve. But he's doing well and he's going to be fine; I've no doubts your team will get this terrible problem put to bed."

"We're closer, Doc," Steve concurred. Small knots of tension eased the longer he entertained Ramirez's company and what had been a small smile became a wider grin. He relaxed even more, thankful for the doctor's ongoing support when the man warmly clasped his shoulder.

"What can you tell me about your meeting with the staff?" Steve asked. "So, the hospital can do it?" The doctor continued to be pleased as he aimed an appreciative eye towards the nurse's station where Lemke was speaking on the phone.

"Yes and Lemke is finalizing the schedule now. Whether something is happening here inside these walls or not, this change should increase his comfort level," Ponch now had his hands shoved deeply into his coat pockets. The seams strained as he clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly before quietly easing back into Danny's room with Steve at his side. Bouncing on his toes by Danny's bed, he studied his patient's calmer face as he slept peacefully.

"Thank you," Steve whispered. In reality, it wasn't only Danny's comfort level which was positively impacted by the wise concessions. "Really, Ponch, I never would have thought of this." Prior to the ad hoc hallway meeting, he had been introduced to all three of Danny's new fleet of dedicated nurses who would be on rotation for the duration of his friend's care.

All three of the nurses were remarkably different in age, demographic and background; yet they shared two very special qualities.

All were highly dedicated professionals. But of greatest significance, all three nurses were male.

It was the simplest of changes and yet remarkably brilliant in that simplicity. The nursing support was definitive and the orders were clear. Until the patient in room 202 might be discharged, his care was to be managed under these very strict edicts governed directly by Doctors Lemke or Ramirez only. Period. With no exceptions.

"I thought you'd approve." Doctor Ramirez's pleased smirk and happy bounce was catchy and Steve found himself genuinely relaxing. "I tried getting Ellen in here, but there are certain things which I couldn't manipulate. And I didn't want to jeopardize the generous latitude which Lemke has managed to grant my limited practice here for Danny's sake."

Ellen Ramirez, the doctor's wife, was a trauma nurse at Tripler Army Medical Center. It would have been another preferred option to keep Danny calm while under professional care; however, it wasn't a feasible choice between the institutions.

"It's more than alright," Steve repeated in a low, hushed voice. "This is perfect." His subsequent sigh of relief was full of additional thanks though he still had zero intention of leaving his partner's side.

"Have Chin or Kono found out anything about a fight or exactly how Danny might have been drugged?" Ramirez softly asked, his friendly active bounce disappearing as the subject settled on the serious matters.

"Nothing about a fight or altercation. No complaints have been filed about any disturbances. But Kono is still researching the traffic cams," Steve muttered with a glance towards Danny when his friend shifted uncomfortably in his sleep. To avoid disturbing his friend more, Steve quirked his head towards the corridor to signal his intent to fill the physician in on the critical portion of that same recent discussion with Kono. Upon leaving the room, his darkly intent look aimed directly at the two ever-present HPD officers on protective detail had the pair dutifully sidling closer to their station.

Steve would only confide in this man; because of too many unknowns, no one else would know even a rumor of their preliminary findings or planned next steps. "The other though … it's not good, Ponch. It's not good at all and I need to fill you in. After, I have an important favor to ask of you," Steve softly whispered as he pulled Ramirez to a secluded corner of the ICU to explain the identified contaminants, including their absolute need for secrecy.

He and Chin's special request focused on obtaining that list of all staff workers who had come in contact with Danny from the time he'd been loaded into the ambulance until being sequestered in the intensive care unit. With his own rabid focus, Steve wholeheartedly approved the idea and the depth of the pending background checks against the female staff. Not one of the Five-0 team intended to leave any pebble unturned regardless of how remote that stray piece of dirt might be.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	11. Chapter 11

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Eleven**

"My name is Elise Wells, I'm an HSA here … a health assistant … I work with the nursing staff." Elise smiled sweetly at the two HPD officers as she showed them her hospital credentials, but neither budged. Even with a thick white blanket tucked in her arms supposedly for the patient in room 202, neither man moved. No matter her pleasantries or winning smile, absolutely nothing happened. Arms folded in stern warning, they rudely shrugged as they determinedly blocked her progress. Because quite unbeknownst to Elise, their orders were clear. No female staff was permitted in the detective's hospital room, and of the few male nurses, only three were on the allowable rotational schedule.

"Please check with your manager," one officer finally conceded to offer more. However based upon a long lingering silence, that remark was to provide her only suggestion.

"I don't understand. It's just a blanket...," she began again, interrupted this time by Doctor Lemke who came from behind to place a friendly hand on her shoulder.

"Elise. A few things have been updated in regard to this particular patient," Lemke explained conversationally. "I guess you haven't had time to meet with the nurse manager?"

"No, I was running a bit late for my shift," Elise confessed, which did hold a small spark of truth. Her extended walk with Silas had brought her twice in front of Williams' house. An intentional route taken for her to visually inspect the property to see if it had been disturbed or if anyone was there minding the man's home. The house was blessedly quiet and so, she was indeed late for work after getting caught up in the obsessive distraction of calculating various schemes. She had worked late on her dining room table making plans and organizing her dangerous medicinal tools, including the preparation of two syringes of LSD. One of which currently was burning a not so guilty hole in the pocket of her light blue cardigan sweater. Except for what was currently hidden in that pocket, she had hesitated in actually acting. She had almost returned to his home in the darkness of night, but had changed her mind rather than risking folly. Instead, she had decided to wait one full day after assessing the detective's condition in the ICU. She would listen and learn before continuing to firm her intentions once his doctors estimated his pending release and recovery needs.

During this very early morning shift which began in the pre-dawn hours, she had intended to loiter in his space with the hopes of finding ways to antagonize his mental state. Her idle plans included slipping a bit of her covert drug into his light liquid meal if an opportunity might present itself. Not too much; just enough to affect his mood, make him even more pliable and impressionable. A small trace amount which would toy with his depleted system and physical woes. An amount negligible enough not to require such a reaction as to warrant medical concern. While this act wasn't a mandatory part of her game, the challenge had intrigued her and as such, Elise wished to be prepared.

However, she could now merely stare in puzzlement at Doctor Lemke as he gave her a succinct version of the changes in the detective's care. With no preamble or much of an explanation, Lemke advised that only he or Doctor Ramirez would be consulted; no one else. Alarmingly though and to bolster the HPD presence, only three particular nurses would be granted access to the man's room. Not even classified as a true nurse, Elise's face reddened because no matter what Lemke said next, she obviously was not going to be one of the final approved staff members.

"Is something wrong? Are his injuries related to a police case... was he attacked? Or, did something else happen? Is that the reason for all of this police presence and added security?" She dared to ask the physician these questions, but Lemke was brusque and unwilling to offer much else in way of reason. Behind the doctor's body, Elise could just see the profile of the Five-0 commander as he stood sentry nearest the window. As dark as the early morning hours, she could just barely see his profile and nothing of his reflection in the window's glass as he stared into the blackness outside. Pursing her lips, she fought to hide any other of her emotional responses. She needed to know how much was suspected before she could move forward.

"I can only say that these changes were put into place by both the task force and Doctor Ramirez," Lemke offered after a short pause. "Since they compound the patient's safety and well-being without adversely affecting other patients or staffing, this hospital has no objection."

"Alright," Elise murmured, further incensed when Lemke had the audacity to pleasantly smile as he relieved her of the blanket. Easing by the officers, he bade her good-bye only to then traipse into the room, himself.

"Thank you," she managed to control her glower, just barely. With a reticent sniff and final glance backwards, she controlled her ill temper until she got to the first available smaller public restroom. Angrily, Elise's face crumpled as she locked the door and leaned her back against it. She looked at her hands to find that she was trembling at having been thwarted from continuing that day's plans.

"You aren't going to win this time," Elise hissed into the air. She was finally happy and didn't want to revert back to how she felt - or even looked - before her permanent move to the island. Glaring at her reflection in the restroom's mirror, she refused to go back to that place where she was plain, mousey and depressed Victoria Elise Morse-Wells.

She was always and forever taking care of the needs of someone else. But they all had left her. First her husband from cancer, then Louis at the hands of the Five-0 Commander, and finally Vincent. In her mind, Vincent had been her gravest lost after being killed by the detective. Murdered within a game that her brilliant brother had designed purposefully to win and his loss tore at her very being.

Elise now refused a role as that lost soul who once had nothing to do. Nowhere to be. No defined purpose to her day. Forever tied by blood to Vincent and Louis, she had regained her purpose through vengeance.

"It's my turn… this is my time," Elise muttered belligerently. Months before her move, she had no one to call or look after; worse yet, there had been no one to call her asking for advice or seeing how she was faring. Oahu had become her home and she now had her beloved Silas. Her life had purpose in more ways than one and beyond her crazed plans, she was blissfully happy.

"I'm not going to lose this," she whispered, resentful that her happy morning had been rudely dashed at her feet. As she regained her composure in the restroom, Elise was positive that Five-0 didn't suspect her in particular; she was brazenly certain that her role on the hospital staff was secure. What she need to know was what - or who - they suspected and if the authorities had been in Williams' home. She needed to know if her contaminants had been discovered as precious little was shared beyond the stoic personalities of Lemke and Ramirez.

"You get today, Daniel," Elise whispered. "But only today." Her fingers literally ached to do something to the downed detective but she was forced to bide her time. Even the deadly syringe hidden in her pocket would have to wait as she altered her plans. Elise was required by the game to remain patient and be the dutiful nursing assistant every minute of each passing hour while in the confines of the hospital walls.

Something had happened though.

"Why male nurses?" Elise mused. "Are you causing trouble Daniel? Or, is it something else?" Lips tight with a nasty sneer, Elise considered the move by the hospital as instructed by Five-0. She never doubted that any blood test would reveal the drugs. That was an anticipated risk which would happen within hours of any required medical intervention. However, his physical condition was completely unexpected and as such, momentarily fouled her plans as she struggled to find ways to spin his injuries to her advantage.

She wanted to think that his friends believed he had gone out alone to purchase illegal drugs or even had tried to kill himself. Male nurses could be an option to work with or manage a recalcitrant patient and as such, an attempted suicide could be a consideration. Lemke wouldn't say though and even if she wanted one of those things to be the truth, the concept of suicide wasn't nearly credibly established. Plus as far as she knew, there was nothing in Williams' reports regarding a belligerent temper or violent behavior. She growled angrily under her breath as she realized her inability to call up his records on the computer at the nurse's station was part of Doctor Lemke's grander design.

"Hmmm, I wonder," she scrunched her face in consideration. They might still think he was an addict; yet again, not enough time had gone by to manipulate such credibility and Elise waffled on her own concept. This larger move meant that something had happened to imply that a woman was threatening the detective's life. It was an incredibly new hitch to her plan which she hadn't ever considered despite having antagonized the incoherent man upon his arrival in the ICU.

"What could they possible know?" Elise wondered aloud as small pang of discomfort managed to settle in her stomach. Even so, as she pondered these threatening possibilities related to female nursing staff, she still felt personally safe from scrutiny. For the first time, her lowly role as an assistant was likely of little interest. "What are they doing? What did you tell them, Daniel, that they actually believed?"

Whatever their secrets, she knew the Commander never left his partner's side regardless of the HPD contingent. At least, he didn't go far barring the need for a quick restroom break or rapid bite to eat. At most, she would have had ten minutes to interfere while Williams was still feeling residual effects from drugs and injury. Elise grimaced to herself while stroking the syringe in her pocket. She found consolation because she wouldn't have had much opportunity anyway.

"My game simply has to change again," Elise promised her reflection, heaving in a shuddering breath because she had to return to work. Tempers were high and the Five-0 team's focus was on diligent guard. Elise was far from stupid, but being blocked from accessing the hospital room was an unanticipated complication leaving her little recourse except to resume drugging the man through his daily routine. While at work, she needed to remain visible to prove a false innocence so she reluctantly pushed herself roughly off the door before glaring one final time in the mirror.

"Spiders and flies, Daniel. I'll be waiting for you with open arms," she vowed within the confines of the tiled restroom. Before he returned home she needed to do something very important to shed at least some doubt on the detective's mental capacity. Elise smiled at her new idea: one that required her to re-enter his home before he was released. Her burgeoning plan required that she remove what she had planted so she could eventually start over. But first, she needed to determine if her subterfuge had been discovered. The scheme would take time, but would be well worth the long-term effort.

"Let them wonder," she hissed under her breath. Already feeling confident in her new plans designed to alter her winning game, Elise began to smile. "I just need time and then let him try to deny knowing how he obtained the drugs. He'll lose it all... it's just a matter of time."

Shreds of truth. Suspect white lies. Small seeds of malcontent.

Not everything she manipulated would go far, but her actions would buy more time to extend the game. She needed to control the situation and prolong his inevitable downfall. Her newest thoughts were bold and fortified her resolve. After leaving the restroom, Elise was happily humming along as reached the nurse's station.

She only needed to know if the authorities had been in the detective's home thus far. And even then if they had gone there, she wasn't sure if it would ever matter.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	12. Chapter 12

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Twelve**

"Tell me exactly how your arms feel again?" Ponch asked, while supporting each of Danny's arms one at a time. With the severity of the concussion, it was no surprise that his patient's headaches had refused to abate, as did a thick muscular ache which continually lay in his neck and across his shoulders. But this complaint about a sharp tingle was new and Ponch didn't like it very much. He watched closely as Danny's arms shook from muscle fatigue and lack of coordination; his pinched face was telling though as a thrumming sting prickled relentlessly through his fingers.

"Down," Danny gasped as his left arm lost all feeling. Expressionless yet worried, Ponch quickly assisted the downwards motion. Only to measure the bruised fingers on Danny's left hand which were reactively clenched and unclenched with an uncomfortable rapidity. His coordination was understandably off... weak... but now he was experiencing a new and possibly very disturbing problem.

"Tingles like needles," Danny complained. "Both arms feel funny like the worst time you ever smashed your funny bone." His arms were weak, and he had relied more than he wanted on Ponch's assistance in keeping each elevated for the few seconds the doctor had first requested. The twang from his neck created what he could only describe as a rubbery needle-like sensation that ran to his wrists and to terminate painfully into his fingers.

"Alright, Danny, that's enough for me," Ramirez pensively confirmed. His personal medical next steps would require a second opinion by the afternoon, but for the moment he selected the most obvious reason. "Swelling is severe around your cervical vertebrae and it's likely pinching nerves and affecting circulation."

Based upon the initial physical complaints, much of the concern continued to focus on the severity of the grade three concussion. Additionally, the bruising across his upper back and neck from whatever Danny had been hit with or thrown into remained significant. He was considered very lucky having escaped any actual cervical fractures from what Steve had chosen to classify as an assault. To him, the only good news was seeing the soft collar now replacing the original more restrictive device. Other than that and soon approaching the onset of day three of his care, Danny remained sickly bedridden in the ICU as his care continued. But now there was an entirely new issue potentially leading to a frightening crisis.

Removed to a far corner of the room, Steve closed his eyes while wearily rubbing his own forehead. Fifty-two hours had passed and he'd not budged more than a few feet away. Whomever had assaulted his partner had meant business as the worst of his physical injuries replaced the original drug-induced fears and truth be told, no one knew if the same person or even more than one, were responsible.

"You've been dreaming," the diligent doctor stated. "About what and how bad?" Arms now folded, blunt and to the point, Ramirez dared his patient to argue otherwise. Watching from beneath darkly hooded eyes, Steve intently stared at his partner's face searching for signs of trouble. He'd witnessed a certain brand of trouble before and though he once thought Morse's touch gone for good, he now feared its return. What he saw was indecision, a touch of disturbing fear, topped with a great deal of very real physical pain.

Because of the neck brace, Danny couldn't actually turn his head but his eyes still managed to meet Steve's for a long moment. "Bad enough," Danny finally admitted after acknowledging Steve's general air of growing concern. His voice cracked, broke and then he stammered badly without ever losing Steve's gaze. "I feel stuck; trapped. Her voice... she, ah... wants me to kill... Steve.    _McGarrett_ really... she never says Steve. I know it's not real... I do,... _but_..."

" _But_ it's a battle to wake him up," Steve interrupted, unable to stop his short tirade. "He barely falls sleeps, Doc, before the damn dreams begin. He's completely disoriented when he opens his eyes and thinks he's back on that damned island and in that damnable, faked reality."

Not waiting for a reply or even a defensive rebuke, Steve broke their shared look first to dismally rock his head into the wall while he braced himself in the corner. He stood there unmoving but missing little of the partially stilted conversation and Ponch's oftentimes difficult to read expressions. Based upon what he saw now, Steve deduced a general displeasure emanating from the big doctor. The aforementioned tingling of Danny's arms and the tremble through his biceps indicated a severe enough bruising of his partner's cervical bones. Almost too blandly, yet seething inside about the onset of old nightmares, Steve watched Danny attempt to fist his left hand again. Swollen fingers and bruised knuckles proved that nearly impossible and only Steve's eyes flew to study Ramirez's stern face when the doctor re-examined the bruised hand. He continued to silently measure the concern and forced a shallow inhale instead of the deeper more audible breath that would have startled both men in its furor.

Ponch's care was more than diligent and demonstrated the epitome of thoroughness. Their final strained conference of sorts confirmed Danny's blurred vision and inability to focus for long. He more than didn't feel well. In reality, Danny was miserable both emotionally and physically. His brief periods of sleep, interrupted by such nightmares, only added to an ongoing feeling of stress, indecision and unease.

"I know you aren't thrilled, but you're due for another round of pain medication. I'm also prescribing anti-inflammatories and a strong muscle relaxant which may help you sleep a bit better," Ponch remarked as he manipulated and massaged the damaged fingers on Danny's left hand. The hoarse grunt of refusal was barely audible and the doctor frowned.

"You're going to be fine, Danny, but you absolutely need the medication to make it over this hurdle. I'm going to give you an anti-emetic for the nausea," Ponch persisted, determined to win when it came to doling out proper medical care. "By the way, Mikala Hale is your next nurse; he's coming on to replace Nelson for the next shift. You can just call him Mik or Mikky. I met him earlier and he's rather talkative, but you'll like him."

Softly sighing in approval, Steve closed his eyes as the doctor strove to keep Danny well-informed before continuing to coerce him into accepting his next round of medication. He had brought Ponch entirely up-to-speed on the Morse incident and the traumatic memories it seemed to be dredging up. The older doctor adapted quickly and easily to accommodate Danny's residual fears because even as his blood results improved, he just couldn't progress beyond certain ingrained responses.

"Mikky," Danny murmured, a small grin lifting one corner of his mouth as Ponch informed him of the shift change. He recognized the odd comment for what it was because it came too quickly on the heels of the intense discussion. Suspiciously watching Ramirez's right hand as it tried to coyly dive into a pocket, Danny grimaced unhappily. "Okay, thank you. But no. I know what you're doing and I don't need any meds, Doc. I'm good."

"Detective," the doctor's annoyed drawl was unmistakable while his eyes sparkled with concern. "I do understand why you'd prefer to avoid taking medication of any kind. However, my goal is to get you back on your feet. We're not going to make much progress this way."

In response, Steve's shoulders subtly stiffened. As part of that earlier discussion with Ramirez, Steve stressed his own inability to discount anything and everything which Danny seemed so focused on - drugged or not. Dream or nightmare. He was sure that there was some truth to portions of the fractured images his partner tried to share. As he anticipated, Doctor Ramirez disagreed. His black and white medical reasoning was based on valid test results which dictated more of the impossibility of any memories being sound. Regardless of who believed what though, the truth of the matter was that Danny had been drugged through overtly planned subterfuge within his own home which used mostly benign over-the-counter products. Moving forward from that singular point of contention, both men utterly agreed upon keeping Danny comfortable, safe and on the road to a full recovery.

"So while I understand your feelings about this, I beg to differ," Ramirez ground out more loudly, his worried tone causing Steve to look up intently. There was little doubt that the doctor was disapproving of his patient's illogical decisions when it came especially to pain management. His method was now to include Steve as part of his necessary battery of ammunition to get his doctorly way. "I can tell by just looking at you that you're miserable, over-tired and in pain. It's not wise to skip or decline what your body needs to heal, Detective."

Steve sighed audibly. Ramirez's continued use of Danny's official title was telling; the man was unused to being denied and was losing his general level of patience because his patient was harming himself. But with the old memories of needles, syringes, and illicit use of mind-altering substances fed into him intravenously, no one could fault Danny for not holding much trust. Ponch understood and entirely sympathized, however he couldn't walk away from his own code of ethics. He had a patient in need and was beside himself at the moment for being unable to care for him to his very best abilities.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush here. Your body needs this medication to gain some ground on the healing process and I don't like what I'm seeing when it comes to this new tingling sensation, Danny. The swelling needs some relief to take pressure off your nerves and improve your circulation," the older man insisted, raising his voice in a growing sense of unbridled annoyance. Again, he glanced towards Steve with a meaningful look. One that was no longer hidden as tempers escalated in the ward.

"I've personally gone to the pharmacy on your behalf," Ponch reiterated for the hundredth time. "I procured the medication myself and I know precisely what you'll be given because I'm doing it myself! No one has touched this other than me."

Closing his eyes only to then tightly wedge a finger to each side of the bridge of his nose, Steve literally winced as he anticipated the unhappy results of the argument. The male nurses and solidity of routine had indeed helped to settle Danny's fears to a great extent. It was far from being a complete solution, though. No matter if Ramirez or Lemke personally prescribed a valid round of medication and then brought it themselves to the room to administer, Danny fought the concept of needing fluids or any kind of treatment.

"I'm fine, Doc. It'll wear off if it's all just swelling," Danny slurred as he failed at biting back a cough which rattled the migraine-level spike lodged through the center of his head. He wanted to convince Ramirez he could manage, but the throbbing twisted his stomach nearly making him gag in response. The odd feelings in his arms and hands was more than disturbing. Yet he still found himself terribly resistant to further care. What he didn't entirely anticipate though was his partner's own angry objection.

"You're not," Steve ground out from his corner, finally making noise and finding unspoken permission to approach the bed where he leaned large over the raised side rail. Across from him, Ramirez conveyed his abject thanks while patiently waiting for what would be a mostly one-sided discussion to achieve its better conclusion.

"You're safe here, Danno. Take the damned meds. God knows you need them. Ponch knows you need them," Steve challenged the pale complexion and subtle anxious movements of discolored fingers. The hard swallow against nausea brought on by the concussion caused Steve to narrow his eyes in warning. Wilting slightly, Danny blinked in surprise at his friend's stricter demands.

"Don't need them," Danny tried to be convincing and failed against the stern disapproving glare. What he should have said was that the didn't want them because his injured body certainly did need them. On his back and stranded in pain, he sighed and then scowled. He was veritably stuck between the two men and their determination to absorb his reticence.

"It's Ponch," Steve reminded him softly. "You're hurting and not getting any better at this rate. So take the damned meds or I'm taking over as your healthcare surrogate. Now. This very minute."

"You wouldn't," he softly objected, surprised when his partner merely cocked his head in warning. Danny's owlish blink betrayed him even more as he stared blearily up into Steve's adamant expression. His subsequent mumbled approval permitting Doctor Ramirez to administer the full battery of recommended medications was the only thing releasing a modicum of Steve's annoyance.

"It's your fault," Danny's eyes fluttered belligerently once Ramirez personally managed the administration of each mandatory drug.

He would sleep next. Something he wasn't sure he could afford quite yet. Not peacefully. He would sleep by default and it was another side effect Danny found fearfully uncomfortable. To that end, his eyes refused to stay open but he forced himself listen to Ramirez as he puttered around the bed. Nelson, the male nurse soon to go off-shift and replaced by Mikky, was also in attendance and Steve simply lurked.

"Your fault," Danny yawned through a whisper. His struggle was a losing battle though as he managed only one weary blink upwards before his eyes slid shut again.

"Of course it is," Steve mused, knowing that Danny was reluctant to fall asleep. "But you'll feel better and then you can thank me for that fact later."

Danny's soft snort which sounded more amused than annoyed, made Steve smile in response. Somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes later, Danny unconsciously sank down deeper into the bed as the worst of the deep-seated pain left his neck and shoulders. The thrumming tingle eased in his arms and fingers next as he lost his resolve to fight remaining awake.

"Better?" Danny must have sighed when the final sickly barrier was conquered and the queasiness simply dissolved along with the hammering through his head. Since he was asked just above where he lay, he realized that Steve had never moved from his bedside stance.

"Go to sleep. I'll be here," Steve softly urged. There was almost an _'I told you so_ ' lilt to this comment. Attached too, a demand of sorts more so than suggestion. In fact, he could have sworn he heard Ponch chuff a pleased sound. Evidently neither intended to leave until he obeyed. Danny would have smiled at their quiet understanding show of support if he had the wherewithal to twitch even a finger.

"Yeah," he eventually managed to make another slurred affirmative sound to ease Steve's tension which also shared the depths of physical respite from his misery. He gave pause to briefly envision the big doctor bouncing on the balls of his feet in his own anxious manner. He might be glancing at his watch or even the clock on the wall as his stubborn patient fought tooth and nail to stay awake. Of course too, his hands would be buried past his wrists inside the depths of his white lab coat pockets.

"Yeah," Danny hummed again on a fainter exhale. With his leaden eyes now completely unwilling to respond, he dozed with a final plea to himself not to dream.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	13. Chapter 13

** H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* **

**Chapter Thirteen**

Though she had resumed working with a lighter heart, Elise's mood eventually turned sour as her day progressed. Her blue sweater hung heavy and lank on her shoulders, seemingly made heavier by the single syringe capped and filled with a potent hallucinogenic. Its physical reminder took on a life as it breathed down her very neck whispering and insisting to find a way; to do it now. This new internal war ensued even though she'd been so resolute in the restroom because Elise was too close to Williams, McGarrett and the HPD officers tasked with guarding the man. Too close and yet terribly helpless in being able to act. The personal distraction grew to prey on her mind and undercut her more typical work performance.

Matters were made worse when her shift in the ICU became overwhelmingly busy and she was asked to stay overtime. The detective's private physician, Doctor Ramirez, had also arrived and his back made the perfect target as Elise shared her sharply pointed visual daggers whenever they crossed paths. That happened more than usual that day as the older doctor pitched in willingly wherever an extra pair of skilled hands were needed. Other than Elise, everyone seemed to like the man, too, so this intrusion made him a newly despised mark.

Emotionally charged by the smallest of issues, even the overhead lights were glaringly bright across the tiled floor causing her to stalk the corridors with a constantly pinched expression. Everyone seemed to be in her way and then alternately demanding too much of her time as she was pulled in a multitude of directions. Her inability to act against the injured detective, mere steps away, had led from furtive glances at the two officers to occasional looks of disdain any time she was forced to journey by his hospital room. Her usual calm was now replaced by a thin-lipped petulance; the ilk of which, her co-workers had never seen before.

"Stupid cow," Elise growled as she slammed her used pair of protective gloves into a disposal bin.

"Elise?" A voice queried from behind, yet Elise ignored it. Cursing mildly under her breath, she instead glared at the obese woman she'd been asked to help turn to a new position. In her ill-temper, Elise never truly heard the nurse who was now staring at her back, watching her aide's anger fully materialize.

"Son of a bitch," Elise muttered while rubbing her wrenched wrist. No matter how well the patient had been prepared about what was to come, she had still been fearful of being touched. She had cried out, tensed and then struggled against Elise's guiding hands. Over two-hundred and thirty-five pounds of reluctant corporeal flesh had nearly come crashing down on Elise's smaller frame. Her reactive attempt at easing the woman's change of position had been an epic fail - at least for Elise.

Now, she continued to stare at the large woman oblivious to the patient's emotional tears in lieu of her own abused and rumpled state. Her defensive posturing grew as she watched two nurses attempt to settle the large woman as a third nurse continued to stem the flow of blood; because in the brief bout of chaos, Elise hadn't remembered to check for enough slack in the intravenous line. The woman had shrieked in fear, flailing wildly and the port had literally been torn out of her skin sending a spray of blood across the sheets.

"Damn it," Elise cursed more loudly as picked the reddened blotched stains on the sleeve of her blue sweater. She would need to change the bed sheets, but hadn't even realized her sweater had been ruined. In fact as she vainly fought to catch her breath and swipe the sweat off her forehead, the fiasco only clawed more viciously at her growing evil mood. She was tired, frustrated and now adding to the insult, large drops of wet blood speckled her favorite blue sweater. "Stupid, dumb cow of a woman."

"Are you alright, Elise?" She jolted badly, shirking almost rudely away when a slim hand fell on her shoulder.

"What? Yes. Why?" Elise was wide-eyed as she nodded in surprise at the same nurse who had attempted to get her attention a few seconds earlier. Based on the shocked expression, she finally understood what she must look and sound like as she worriedly pulled her sweater up around her neck. Schooling her features though was a more difficult chore and Elise found herself fighting another surge of fury as she was confronted by a superior.

"Do you need to tell me anything?" The nurse cocked her head authoritatively, unimpressed by the aide's odd moodiness despite the long work day. Her eyes flickered over Elise's reddened face until they settled on the swollen wrist and then found the blood stains. With that realization, what might have been more of an inquisition paled as the nurse gently turned Elise's fingers over in her hand.

"I'm sorry... I hadn't realized that you hurt your wrist. And the blood... your sweater is ruined," the nurse said, pausing briefly before providing another suggestion. "You should file a report and have one of the doctors take a look at your wrist and hand."

"I will... but, I'm fine... really," Elise blurted while slowly slipping away from the nurse's grasp. She grappled with herself to better control her poor attitude since the nurse hadn't actually heard her monologue. Mentally she insisted that she take this opportunity to evade additional scrutiny before she made matters worse for herself. Elise heaved in a deep breath of air and tried to smile while gently rubbing her aching wrist as part of her excuse.

"I feel badly about the intravenous line .. and didn't mean to... get... so mad; I'm more mad at myself," Elise humbly offered. "I'm usually more careful."

The nurse pursed her lips and nodded before checking the time. "You came on at four o'clock this morning? It's almost four o'clock in the afternoon now. Twelve hours? You must be exhausted so why don't you get cleaned up, swing by admin, and then go home? You helped us out enough for one day... I'll have someone else change Mrs. Hanaka's bed sheets."

For a long moment, Elise didn't respond as her heart beat wildly in her chest while she decided if she was being chastised or presented with a gift. Choosing the latter, she murmured her thanks and was relieved when the nurse offered a reassuring smile.

"It was a crazy day, Elise," the nurse stated, more kindly than Elise would ever deserve. "Thanks for staying on for us. Please go get that wrist checked out and feel free to go home."

Nearly speechless by a fortuitous save, Elise bobbled in place before escaping the ICU seemingly for the employee exit and her car. But she returned just as quickly on a whim, loitering by the nurse's station to eye the large take-out cup of coffee brought to Doctor Ramirez by one of his new friends. A nasty germ of an idea which had taken her in the stairwell now became a real thought and Elise glowered angrily as a bead of sweat dotted her upper lip.

Dare she do it?

Much of the staff was still busy and no one was looking. The large letter " _ **R**_ " written in black ink clearly denoted the big doctor's name. It taunted her and she acted instantly to swipe the cup under the lip of the counter's taller overhang. In seconds, the syringe was out of her pocket and she had removed the cup's lid. With a practiced push, she dispensed an acrid trace of the LSD into the streaming hot contents. Her eyes gleamed in delight at the dark rich blackness at first dosed only with extra sugar.

"Lucky me," Elise sneered softly under her breath. "Or actually, maybe lucky you." The inky blackness proved the coffee to be strong and his penchant for sweetness would mask any odd taste. She swirled the coffee like a professional sommelier might aerate a glass of wine with a quick motion, hissing when her bruised wrist twanged. After that, she only paused to wait for two staff to walk by the station before replacing the large cup where it had been; and then, she never looked back.

She intentionally skipped visiting the administrative offices, favoring the ability to go home and see her Silas who had been alone for far too long. The late afternoon sun was not only overly bright as she burst through the doors, but brutally hot and she instinctively winced. Elise stripped her blue sweater off only to curse for stupidly almost losing the drug from in its worn pocket. Her fingers closed around the syringe as she buried her hand in the folds of the material while racing to her car. Half the liquid was missing and she smiled to herself as she gently tossed the sweater to the passenger seat once she'd reached seclusion.

"Such a pleasure Doctor Ramirez," she purred under her breath. Elise had gotten the last word in that day; with the staff so busy, it was possible to do the same against Williams and the exciting urges gave her pause. Elise was resentful for the detective being so untouchable, yet she was now feeling moderately better for at least achieving something of value. Sitting stock-still in the smothering heat of her car, she waffled indecisively with her fingers wrapped around the ignition key and the syringe in her lap. Sweating and breathing heavily, she stared at the hospital's employee entrance as she regained control of her erratically thrilled heartbeat.

"It wasn't such a bad day after all," she whispered sarcastically, miles away in her thoughts as she reconsidered an outright attack on Williams. But tainting a coffee cup was one thing; getting into a well-guarded patient's room even with Ramirez as a potential distraction, would still be an impossibility.

"Wait," Elise muttered, her face darkly clouded because she was merely angry and insulted by a bad experience at work. She severely berated herself for having such ridiculous cravings. She needed to be happy with what she'd been able to so spontaneously achieve and her mind raced with better advice as she revved her car's small engine.

 _"You need to wait. It's going to be so much better. Go home... wait... then tonight. It has to be tonight."_ There was an internal ache though for retribution, relieved only when she departed the property as if out of sight was indeed, out of mind. Thumbing the air conditioning on high in her car, as cold air replaced the stifling heat, she knew that she needed to put a tangible distance between herself and the detective to maintain the sanctity of her new, longer-term plans.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	14. Chapter 14

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Go home, Chin. I got this," Kono said. "Or, do you know what's a better idea? Work on Steve and get him to take a break. If anyone can do it, you can. He'll listen to you." Kono's tone was sweetly sincere, yet she never looked up from her laptop positioned just so on Danny's kitchen countertop. She had just found a sliver of traffic camera footage which clearly showed the Camaro stopped at a four-way intersection and headed towards the inner city. Specifically, facing Chinatown.

"He's not going to move an inch until we get who's doing this to Danny," Chin replied, amused by both her supportive opinion and her dedication to identifying Danny's travel route. Ten to one, his cousin wasn't going to move from her computer-side perch either and he found her advice more than comical.

"I know, but you can try," she agreed as her eyes flew to the timestamp and she estimated which traffic cam might next reveal Danny's travels that fateful night. "It's my turn here, cuz. I think I found something anyway and want to keep going. I'll call you if I find anything significant to act on and if I do, you can go check it out."

Chin grunted softly at her bossy commands. Nevertheless, Kono's recommendations made perfect sense across the board and he found himself readily agreeing. He had staked out Danny's house the prior evening and quite literally nothing had come of it. It was her turn now until something of more value pulled their attention away. Before that might happen, their mutual assumption was that their unknown subject would be back to pay Danny a special visit. At least one of them would be there this time though; waiting in the pitch darkness and more than prepared to put an end to the deadly scheme.

"I'll swing by the hospital," he stated while pulling his keys from his pocket. "It's early, but keep your head down and check in on schedule."

"Will do," Kono muttered as she pressed her nose nearly an inch from the monitor. Her voice was monotone and faded to a murmur as her fingers now tapped rapidly through minutes of what looked like black and white video recorded in the middle of the night. "Okay, Chin. Maybe sooner if I can pinpoint a downtown sector through these cameras. I've almost got something... from an old case... do you remember that old dive bar? The one owned by that British transplant?"

"Maybe." Considering the murmured monotone, Chin couldn't help making a perplexed face. The team had investigated a small illegal dog-fighting ring purported to be working out of a dive bar. The owner, a British national, had been less than helpful and then mocking when their search came up empty. "You think Danny went there? Why would he do that, Kono?

"Because," Kono muttered to herself. "Because... he and Richardson hated each other on sight. Danny still wants that guy bad enough and just maybe... he had no idea what he was doing that night. If I can track the Camaro to that sector... it's possible, Chin. Danny was completely out of it and he went back... to fulfill a subconscious need. Instead, he found trouble and Richardson would have been more than happy to take advantage of Danny's condition."

She heard the amused sniff the second time. Still, it took her a good few seconds to pull her nose away from the laptop. At first she was angry believing Chin was making fun of her mushrooming theory. One finger stayed poised in the air, just hovering over the play key as she paused the video midstream.

"What?" Kong blurted, eyes narrowed in warning. Mentally, she was envisioning the dingy, dark bar and the row of old red-cushioned stools. What Richardson displayed behind the bar had caught her eye at the time. Now, she pictured the long wooden object again and chose to consider it a weapon. One that more than easily could have been used to so severely hurt Danny's head, neck and shoulders. What she needed was proof... a motive... any driving reason to visit the bar again.

"It's a valid idea, Chin," Kono insisted before returning to her work.

He nearly laughed at her level of distraction as she multi-tasked, grinning widely when she finally glanced up to question why he was still in the house and daring to laugh at her. She realized then what he was truly thinking and folded her arms defensively at the validity of the comparison to Steve's equally tenacious personality.

"Fine, I get it! I'll take that as a compliment, too." A wry smile instantly transformed her otherwise very serious features. "Go, Chin! I'll be fine and if I can narrow this down, I promise to call."

"Going," Chin laughed with a warning finger aimed in her direction. But she was nodding and gesturing with both hands towards her monitor.

"Yes, I will. For now, I've got things to do here," Kono smiled at her cousin's ingrained and very overprotective habits. She would be fine that long night between her research and especially if someone might come calling unannounced on her doorstep. Her fingers twitched as she considered the possibility with an actual hope. Chin must have seen the hint of intrigue in her eyes because his smile lessened considerably.

"Kono,…," he began and then scowled as she interrupted to divert the subject with an off-handed shrug.

"I'll call," she vowed more sternly. She was too meticulous and diligent to ever fall into such distraction or become so reckless. Chin knew that too and his tone softened to return her soothing smile. "Don't forget to pick me up in the morning, cuz. I'm not going to be happy if you do, cuz."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Ramirez stood in the pharmacy with an impatient jiggle shaking his hands, both of which clutched a coffee cup again gone lukewarm from sporadic attention. Every so often, he'd still take a sip though, now grimacing from its bitter flavor made even more so from being reheated in a microwave too many times to count.

"Not safe," he groused softly to himself with a frenetic glance towards the clock on the wall. "He's not safe ... have to leave ... he's right." The doctor had come down to the pharmacy personally to obtain the medications he'd recently prescribed for the bedridden detective. Unable to identify a clear diagnosis for his patient, Ramirez had decided upon fentanyl for sedation, lorazepam for nausea and chlorpromazine for the severe migraines. While waiting, he glowered suspiciously at the pharmacist who blanched at the doctor's intimidating expression.

"Sign here," the pharmacist's voice cracked as he tried to maintain his calm exterior. He eyed the doctor's hands as they trembled when he accepted the medications, only releasing the badly stained coffee cup for a moment to settle each into his deep pockets before awkwardly lurching away for the intensive care unit. In the elevator, the doctor finally finished his coffee and he swiveled his head constantly hearing sounds where there were none. Seeing sounds as a rainbow of color streaming illogically from the unlikeliest of sources. A puff of blue emanated from the sound the elevator door made when it hissed open on his desired floor and he idly waved his hand through the softly hued color to disperse its cloud.

"Get me a wheelchair for my patient in room 202," he growled out when he reached the nurse's station. He knew what he needed to do as he eyed these strangers with an ever-growing level of suspicion. He couldn't trust any single one of them for the incompetent fools they were; his peer, Doctor Lemke was at the top of this list of imbeciles. There was no need to answer the confused query so instead, Ramirez plunked his now empty cup on the counter, shoving it forward rudely with two fingers to the nurse who snared it before it could topple off the counter and onto the lower desk. He paused, mesmerized as a tiny trail of reddish smoke followed the cup across the counter to surround her hand before dissipating.

"What are you doing?" He paused, stammered and frowned angrily at the nurse's stunned face when she dared not respond immediately to his demands. "Get me a wheelchair. Now. And, throw that out while you're at it."

His stalk continued past the two HPD officers who also were deemed inadequate for the job though now, they followed closely to flank his progress with worried looks shared between them. But then Ramirez growled in anger as he rounded into Danny's room.

"What are you doing here?" Ramirez said, his voice low and threatening. "Move aside, he's my patient and I need to get him out of here." He had thought only McGarrett the one to contend with to reach his wounded detective, but now the male nurse, Mikky was standing steadfast to block his path along with Lieutenant Kelly. And McGarrett, he had sneakily come up from behind to cage him in a defensive half circle.

"Move." Ramirez squared his shoulders, fists clenched warningly as the three men blocked his path. In the hall, the two HPD officers had their weapons drawn and at the ready should the compromised doctor become more of a threat to their assigned charge. However, each was simultaneously watching the Commander for the right signal should that be deemed necessary. At that moment, their superior's hand was open, palm flat and facing the floor demanding that they wait and do absolutely nothing.

"He's in danger," Ramirez spat out. Behind Mikky, he could see Danny's face quite clearly. No longer sleeping, Danny was staring at him with a look of abject concern. But Ramirez only noted in approval that his patient was now awake and would be transported more easily. The move from bed to wheelchair would be so much the more easy with the man aware of his surroundings.

"Where are we taking Danny, Ponch?" Steve whispered softly, drawing the attention his way. "Where?" Hands fisted, Ramirez turned first on Steve using his sheer size in an attempt to make the man back down. Yet, McGarrett refused to yield even as the bigger doctor now grabbed the front of his shirt to push him violently backwards into the wall.

"Not _we_ ," Ponch snarled dangerously. "It's not safe here. Only I can keep him safe... just me ... we're leaving," the doctor insisted, breathing heavily and trembling as his rage overcame reason. "I know... I know more than you... I know how to keep him safe!"

"I know you do. But we're going to help you move him, Doc," Steve calmly stated, willingly pliable under the doctor's hands. "What's the plan? How do you want to do this?"

He was ready to take the older man down and knew that he'd probably have to, but he would first attempt a modicum of reason. He had been alerted by one of the nurse's of Ramirez's oddly explosive behavior just before Chin had arrived at the hospital. In attempting to track the visiting doctor's movements, she had noticed his blown pupils and the telltale signs of real trouble. Her frantic call had wisely first been to Steve who had managed Security and then made rapid plans to corral their compromised friend with the least amount of stress.

"Plan?" Ponch whispered. He didn't quite know what he'd planned other than the wheelchair. He only knew that Danny had been right all along and that they needed to leave the hospital proper. He blinked in confusion as he thought hard for a few seconds and then nodded to himself as he found a happy compromise.

"Yes. Leave... for the clinic... in my SUV."

"Good," Steve said in a faked approval. His own plan was to get Ramirez out of the ICU, away from his partner and the other patients. Completely away from prying eyes to avoid future repercussions though what had happened was not the man's fault.

"Let's go get your truck, Doc. Danny can't walk... we need to pull it up to the side exit so we can be discreet. We need to get him out of here... when no one's looking. I can help... let me help, Ponch?"

Buffered behind Mikky and Chin, Danny watched the frightening goings on with a great deal of trepidation. Steve had gently woken him from his sleep to forewarn of what was to come because they didn't have enough time to intervene. They had decided to allow the doctor his travels within the walls of the hospital knowing what his final destination would be. Though Danny's room was in the ICU, this final stop was controllable and predictable in an otherwise out of control scenario.

Muzzy-headed from drugs and a deep sleep, Danny was still confused though and worried that Ramirez would inadvertently hurt someone or get himself injured. Ever so carefully, he used his left hand to search blindly for the remote to further raise the head of the bed. The sonorous mechanical burr briefly drew the doctor's attention and Danny visibly winced not only from the pain he caused himself as he acclimated to the higher position.

"Ready, Danny?" Ponch still had Steve's shirt by the collar, but his unfocused endlessly black eyes were now aimed solely in Danny's direction. "I need to get you out of here. Now. We need to go now."

"Sure," Danny nodded, his eyes flickering from the doctor's fully dilated pupils to meet Steve's steadier ones with a stark concern. The look he received in return was one of calm reassurance; Steve had the situation more than well in control and he only asked that Danny play along.

"I'm ready, Doc." He swallowed hard, wincing at the headache which drilled through the back of his skull to once more aggravate his bruised neck and shoulders. He panted through the ache as he fought to find his voice and then the right words.

"But... Steve's right... we need help. I want them to help. Side exit is good... no one will see us... it's private. Safer. But we need Steve's help."

Ramirez's jaw tightly clenched and then softened just before his expression changed again. "You need meds... pain medication before we do this," the doctor advised, his fingers moved in the folds of Steve's t-shirt to release him entirely for one of the syringes pegged on end in his lab coat. "You'll be more comfortable for the move."

"No. I'm good," Danny whispered in alarm, his eyes finding Steve's face once more as Ramirez uncapped his chosen needle with his teeth. It didn't matter that the pharmacist had been forewarned and instructed by Doctor Lemke to fill each syringe with a B-12 vitamin. Despite knowing that he was well-protected and there was nothing of concern in each vial, Danny still tensed and coughed as his injured ribs grated painfully in his chest. "Really, I'm fine, Doc."

His words seemed to briefly anger Ramirez though as he froze in place, possibly even replaying his patient's earlier objections against his prescribed aid. Danny paled as the doctor practically glared at him in disapproval. Nearer the bed with Mikky by his side, Chin shifted closer readying himself for a possible altercation.

"You're okay, Danno," Steve whispered reassuringly. Yet his fingers twitched by his side as he measured the doctor's silent intentions. He was asking a lot of Danny as he began to quake with a growing stressed fatigue of his own. He could imagine Morse's echoed warnings in his partner's thoughts and Steve sighed worriedly. Aiming his voice towards Danny and maintaining an even-tone, Steve strove to keep a balance between the two.

"Either way... you're fine. You're okay... Ponch only wants to help. Just make believe it's a vitamin shot." Steve's wry smile which further communicated the truth did nothing as tension still lingered dangerously in the room.

"Not funny, Steven," Danny eventually breathed out on a harsh whistle. He refused to relax or find even a small amount of humor while staring at Ponch's fingers, poised mid-air while holding a sharp needle. "No, I can't... I'd rather not... not yet."

After uttering those final words, Danny managed a nod but made it more than clear he wished to be left entirely alone. He was willing to go just so far in this particular game and he had simply reached that inevitable breaking point.

"How about waiting until you bring the truck closer?" Chin softly interrupted to offer the option. It made no real sense, yet Ponch glanced away from Danny to stare at him now. "We need the truck first, Doc. Don't you agree? How about the truck?"

Barely able to breathe normally, Danny watched, along with the other men, as the doctor used his sleeve to wipe and blot the sweat which streamed heavily down his face. Whomever was after Danny, had managed to get to their friend in an odd and very unexpected act of retribution. Both he and Steve were mortified by what they were now witnessing as Doctor Ramirez wobbled in place at once distracted and strangely overly focused in his objective.

"Come with me," Ramirez nodded in approval as he suddenly yanked Steve towards the doorway. The circumspect glare Steve threw at the HPD officers as he allowed himself to be tugged along had them stumbling backwards and giving way instantly to the doctor's egress from Danny's room. Painfully stranded in bed, Danny gasped audibly as his better left hand fumbled for the bedding in a panic.

"Chin," he pleaded needlessly, because the Asian was already on the move.

"Stay with him and tell Lemke to stand by," Chin demanded of Mikky and the two HPD officers as he trotted after both Steve and Ramirez. "Do not leave his side for any reason. None. I'll have your badges if you move an inch from this room!"

Chin trailed the two men, alternately pleased and distressed that Ramirez had indeed selected the farthest stairwell to traverse to the first floor. It was as Steve had hoped and their fast planning was as they intended, yet Chin resented each and every step they were about to initiate to incapacitate their good friend in the safest manner possible. They would allow Ponch to get to the bottom floor. There, he and Steve would fully take control of the situation in the most private way possible.

He paused as the two opened the second floor door to slip through to the landing. Intentionally unimpeded by design, Steve glanced once over his shoulder with a tight smile and curt nod. With that signal, Chin counted to five before following in their wake. He gained ground just as Steve slipped an arm around Ramirez's throat from above on the last step, his other arm finding purchase around the bigger man's waist to lift strongly backwards. The choke-hold was deliberately methodical and perversely accommodating against the doctor's well anticipated fight. But debilitated and distracted where Steve was primed, Ramirez was no match for the younger man's careful determination backed by Chin's quick use of handcuffs before he could truly be choked into unconsciousness.

"I'm sorry, Ponch," Steve whispered as he sank down to the floor, supporting his friend's upper body the entire way while Chin ensured the cuffs clicked home but weren't too tight. Steve looked at Chin's face, not at all surprised to see the thin-lipped anger because he felt precisely the same way. No words were shared and nothing needed to be said as the two worked together to manage the ill doctor as best as possible when he briefly regained his breath to fight, argue and battle against them.

"I'll get Lemke," Chin finally said as Ponch heaved one last time in Steve's arms in a futile effort to escape. The doctor was exhausted and wrecked by whatever drug he'd ingested. Something already assumed to have been slipped into his coffee cup that day. His angry incoherent outbursts quieted as a deeply rasped breathing filled the small space of the stairwell.

"He's right about one thing," Steve muttered breathlessly as Chin rose to his feet. "Danny's not safe here."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	15. Chapter 15

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Fifteen**

Chin took the steps in the side stairwell two at a time after running back to his car for his computer tablet, to update a now very concerned Kono, and to personally place a call to Ellen Ramirez, Ponch's wife. He only slowed his pace before opening the door to the inner corridor with one final left turn taking him through the doors to the intensive care unit where a familiar voice brought him up short.

"Lieutenant Kelly," the pleasant yet seriously strained voice sounded practically in his ear and Chin lurched to a stop as Doctor Lemke approached from behind with a small black thumb drive. "I found this in Ponch's pocket and I know for a fact that he meant to give it to you or to the Commander before this... insanity happened."

"Mahalo, Doctor. I've contacted Ponch's wife, Ellen. She's on her way over now." Partly sobered by the obvious truth when it came to their older friend and doubly impressed by this doctor's subtle acknowledgement, Chin managed to smile in welcome as he accepted the thumb drive which held the now very critical information regarding hospital staff. "How's he doing? What have you found out?"

Lemke grimaced unhappily. "Traces of LSD were confirmed in the residue of the coffee cup and in his bloodstream. He'll be fine in a few hours, but it's more than obvious that whomever did this was or still is in this hospital. I have to admit that I didn't quite take Detective Williams very seriously when he arrived and I owe him an apology; you and your team will continue to have whatever you need at your disposal to locate this person."

"LSD? In his coffee," Face clouded in anger, Chin muttered under his breath. Based upon the reddened expression and tense tilt of the doctor's head, Lemke was not only furious but also embarrassed as he waited for his next question. "Where did Ponch get the coffee from?" Chin asked.

The grimace worsened on Lemke's face as his left cheek developed a severe twitch. "Mikala Hale did a coffee run down to the cafeteria just as he came on shift earlier today."

"Mikky? Danny's nurse?" Chin blinked in stunned silence, not entirely surprised by the doctor's next rush of words because he too didn't believe the older Hawaiian nurse could be a viable suspect. Regardless, Lemke was upset and more than defensive on behalf of this particular staff member.

"Mik would never do something like this. Never. He's worked here for years and is one of our best staff nurses ... but I asked that he wait for either you or the Commander in the lounge."

Steve was already in the lounge with a tearful Mikala Hale who was seated at a break table when Chin showed up. Based on a slope-shouldered stance as he leaned against the far wall, Steve was also disbelieving of the older nurse's involvement. The nurse had truly done nothing wrong. "Mik brought up four coffees from the cafeteria. Other than his own, Mik used a black pen to initial each cup and then left them at the nurse's station," Steve quietly explained. "Someone else tampered with Ponch's drink."

"I swear that's all I did. I don't know who would have done something so terrible to Doctor Ramirez," Mik said, glancing up as he dabbed the corner of his eye. His fingers were trembling around a wadded white tissue and he sniffed softly before he leaned forward to snag another from a box placed intentionally in front of him. "I used the self-serve station in the cafeteria. Doc Ramirez takes his coffee black and very sweet. I labeled each cup and left them at the station."

Patiently inhaling, only to expel the air slowly, Steve shrugged helplessly. Mik had been duly checked before being assigned as one of Danny's special nurses and there truly was no reason to doubt the man's honesty or work ethic. "Thanks, Mik. I appreciate your help; if you think of anything else let me or Lieutenant Kelly know. Alright?"

Mik nodded as he rose to his feet, depressed and saddened as he shook Steve's and the Chin's hand with a genuine sincerity. "I understand if you need to take me off the Detective's roster."

Nothing had been decided per se, so Steve merely nodded at the truth of the statement watching as the man's face completely fell. In all actuality, he was now seriously considering a much broader move related to Danny's original request to depart hospital grounds, but he needed to know the ongoing risks to his partner's health. There was also the issue of having trusted medical care with Doctor Ramirez out of commission and a very real possibility that Danny would now officially refuse any and all care regardless of where he might be.

"For now, yes," Chin reconfirmed, kindly understanding the nurse's loss of residual hope in that he'd be trusted enough to stay on. "Mahalo, Mik. It's not really you... we have things to work on. But if you do remember anything that might help, let us know."

"Yeah, I will," the Hawaiian softly agreed, tears still glistened in his eyes though as he left the lounge.

The two waited for the door to snick shut before breaking their silence. Exhausted and beside himself with worry, Steve closed his eyes as he leaned heavily on the table. "Tell me, Chin. Why Ponch?"

"Because our subject couldn't reach Danny," Chin wisely assessed. "Whoever did this is frustrated... angry and with any luck, about to make a very big mistake. They couldn't get to Danny directly, so took advantage of Danny's personal doctor. Retribution? Jealousy? Maybe even a way to deliver a message to us... to Danny? But at the end of the day, the real issue is that he or she simply couldn't touch Danny and took advantage of the next, best thing."

"His doctor," Steve agreed, his head swinging up to meet Chin's gaze. He nodded in approval when Chin slid the black thumb drive across the table and directly into his hands. He knew what it was and the information was more critical than it ever was before. "You're right and Lemke could be next. It begs the question if we should do the unexpected ourselves and keep Danny here instead of moving him. Or, do we move him to a safe house?"

"I think it's going to be up to Danny... and maybe even Doctor Lemke," Chin replied, because the staff doctor might not want to become an unwitting target, himself. "In all honesty at this point, what's done next is really more of Danny's decision."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Danny fought falling asleep, which wasn't difficult because he certainly didn't feel well. His eyes would close from their blurry view for a long moment until the painful throb of his head roiled his stomach. He would cough against the sourness in his throat, only then to rattle his shoulders and neck under the soft collar. The cycle was viciously unfair and he swallowed thickly before remembering that Doctor Lemke was waiting for an answer to a rather pertinent question.

"Detective?" Lemke, gently prompted when his patient's eyes reopened to squint upwards. His pupils were sluggish to react and the detective was having difficulty focusing; both tell-tale signs of double-vision and a budding migraine. Nonetheless, he was once more refusing advised care.

"You don't look very comfortable; your blood pressure would agree. A round of pain medication and an anti-emetic would do you a world of good."

"No, I'm okay," Danny blatantly lied much to Doctor Lemke's disapproval. His eyes flickered worriedly towards the corridor which he could only barely see for the restrictive soft neck brace. He had agreed to being left in the care of the two HPD officers and he knew to expect Lemke's visit. But in his reality, he was woefully alone as Chin managed a few urgent phone calls and Steve questioned his nurse, Mikky Hale. In his distress, Danny blindly fisted the sheets with his left hand as his eyes closed against a nauseating sensation that left the room swimming.

"Detective Williams?" Lemke was pushing harder and Danny was beyond being able to cope as he mentally replayed the threat of the syringe held high in Ponch's hand.

"I can't," Danny whispered inaudibly. He needed someone to come back. Either Chin or Steve; someone to help him combat the demons which were beginning to visit. Sweat started to pool at the base of his throat and he could literally feel Lemke's concern mounting. He'd had a difficult time allowing Ponch in; after what had just happened, there was no way he'd permit this physician to manage his care. He anticipated an ongoing argument even with Steve and his sane side agreed that he was in no danger from Lemke. Nonetheless, the illogical side of his brain was winning as a once forgotten woman's voice drilled relentlessly into his mental ear.

"I can't," Danny softly voiced a bit more loudly. Another disappointing glance towards the corridor proved that neither Chin nor Steve had returned, which only increased his level of unease. Finding resolve he didn't know he possessed, Danny grimaced as he shifted in the bed with every intention of getting up. "I need to leave. I need to go. Get my papers together so I can leave."

"Excuse me?" Lemke reared upright to his full height, stethoscope in one hand and the other restraining further movement by his traumatized patient. Stunned when the detective tried to shirk away from his grip, now pointing to the intravenous to demand it be removed. "You can't be serious!"

"Take this out, Doc." Teeth gritted against the body wide ache he'd woken with a vengeance, Danny was as determined as the physician. His mind was made up because this time he was truly done after inadvertently putting a friend at risk. Besides his own fears, what was happening was no longer about his own safety and Danny's mind was irrevocably decided. "Take this out and then sign me out of here. Now."

"I guess there's our answer," Steve's voice suddenly reached them from the door. Lemke moved aside barely enough in order to keep one firm hand on his disobedient patient as both he and Chin entered the hospital room. The look on Steve's face was both understanding and as disapproving as the doctor's when he got a better look at the near ashen complexion and the volume of pain etched across his friend's face. No longer laying comfortably in the bed, the sheets were twisted and Danny seemed to have been in the process of trying to get up.

"You want to leave... are you sure?" Steve asked. The question about certainty was more related to general health and pain management, of which Danny grunted an affirmative sound. Lips pressed firmly together it took only a heartbeat for Steve to warmly clasp Lemke's shoulder before seconding his best friend's wishes. "Unplug him, Doc. Do what you need to do to make Danny comfortable... prescriptions... write out care instructions... whatever's going to be needed because we're going to have to leave as soon as possible."

Under his hands, his patient ceased his struggle and deflated in utter relief as both the Lieutenant and the Commander not only returned, but accepted his decision without question. Yet Lemke glowered, worried for Danny's well-being and distraught that the hospital had proven to be an unsafe place despite everyone's best precautions. His mouth flapped open uselessly before giving up entirely on any further argument. "I'll send in a nurse to remove the intravenous. But give me about fifteen minutes to ready the other things you'll need," he muttered, shaking his head as he walked away.

"Thank you," Danny whispered entirely relieved that there would be no argument. No attempts of soothing words, looks signaling disbelief, threats of surrogate power, or vows of safety. Yet he was undeniably ill, closing his eyes reflexively while sinking into the bed with a groan which he failed at tamping down. Even though there was still no verbal argument, Danny sensed his two friends worriedly looming closer to silently second guess the intelligence of the decision.

"Lemke said Ponch was going to be okay; but I'm done, Steve. I can't stay here... especially when I put someone else in danger. Anyone could be next. I can't believe this happened to him... not to Ponch." Danny's tired voice trailed away, wracked with no small amount of remorse and even guilt for what had occurred.

"It's not your fault," Chin's softly murmured sound mirrored Steve's silent surprise. "We'll figure something out." While each had only thought Danny averse to Morse's old conditioning related to medical care, they should have more easily guessed what would become a more valid reason. "We should have been smarter... no one saw this coming, Danny."

"Chin, we're going to use the safe house in Waipio," Steve whispered, his private comment enough for the Asian to swiftly leave to advise Kono and put the move into motion. His hand found Danny's arm when a light cough left him gagging and as pale as the sheets. Steve was worried, gauging the depths of his friend's discomfort which was undeniably severe to subsequently put an objection on the tip of his tongue.

"Danno, it's a bit of a ride. You're going to have allow Lemke to give you something to get you through this move."

"Bumps and bruises; what's a few more?" Though his eyes remained closed and his brow deeply furrowed, Danny's retort was stubbornly definitive. His voice was low due to the debilitating strain he was experiencing. Between occasional pauses to beat back nausea and regain both breath and stamina, Danny made the rest of his case known to further his decision. "Can't do anything for these damned ribs... the other is just bad swelling. Lemke agreed with Ponch; nothing's damaged in my neck. It's soft tissue bruising and I can be just as miserable... somewhere else."

"I know their opinions," Steve agreed readily enough with the general medical assessment, but there were other considerations to keeping Danny more whole and comfortable for the pending move. "I know what I'm seeing too, Danno, and I don't like it."

Those reasons were why both physicians would argue their patient leaving against medical advice. On top of that, Danny certainly didn't need to be so accepting of his misery when there were much better options.

"And I know it's hard, especially after what just happened. But I want you to let Doctor Lemke take the edge off, buddy. You haven't even gained any ground to risk having a relapse. So, you need to let him do his thing so you can manage the trip. That concussion you sustained is a very real and a very major concern; plus, Ponch wanted a second opinion on your neck due to the numbness you had in your arms."

"Where's Kono?" The sudden question wasn't so much out of the ordinary as oddly timed, and Steve's face went completely blank.

"What?" His partner was aggravatingly adept at changing disagreeable subjects. But when Steve tried to argue that point, Danny ignored him.

"The whole day is practically done." Gesturing towards the window where dusk was rapidly coming on, Danny forced his eyes to stay open as his vision swam alarmingly and he temporarily lost sight of Steve's face. "Kono. Where is she?"

"Your place," Steve admitted, now suddenly stunned by his own realizations about the potential true folly of the cousins' original concept. "Damn it. Kono is at your place, Danno."

He and Chin had discussed which one of them might be leaving the hospital even before Doctor Ramirez had been compromised. However, there had been no true sense of urgency. Chin had been pushing hard for him to leave because Steve had yet to take a real break. He had been pushing for Steve to get some air and freshen up at Danny's while using the ongoing investigation of the traffic cam footage as another important excuse so he could be brought up to speed on Kono's latest findings.

Steve couldn't help the heavily burdened sigh which escaped at the same time he buried his face in both hands. Peeking out from between his fingers, he looked from Danny towards the corridor and the two HPD officers. One officer knew Danny well enough to be incensed about the personal attacks and in all honesty, he had impressed Steve from the beginning. The concept of leaving the hospital to take a break had only been talk though - at least from Steve's viewpoint - with zero sense of urgency. Nothing like what he felt now as he thought about Ponch, considered Kono facing an unknown adversary alone, and the over-riding need to coordinate his partner's move to a safe house.

"Chin stayed at your place last night. They were taking turns, so Kono's there and also working the traffic cam footage... and...one of us was going to bring her the thumb drive," Steve further explained while glancing out the darkening window himself. His mind raced at the implications which none of them had paused to truly deliberate until Doctor Ramirez was intentionally attacked.

"And... what? She's staking out my house hoping this person or these people come back for more? Alone?" Danny's voice rose in alarm, cracked and hoarse when the breath caught in his throat. His next inhale was shallow but purposeful despite the painful pull on his ribs. After an intentional pause, Danny managed to get his mouth to cooperate on his short exhale. "Who's stupid ass idea was this, Steven? She can't be alone!"

"Chin and Kono worked it out together," Steve cursed softly under his breath. It was indeed a bad idea and Steve would make changes, however his partner was nearly beside himself with the news. Sweat dripped down the side of Danny's cheek, and his fingers were beginning to shake from an emotional surge. "Damn it, Danny. Calm down, she'll be okay and has been in touch every hour, on the hour. I'll take care of Kono; I promise."

But Danny was breathing hard now, panting as his eyes communicated a great deal of alarm through volumes of rolling pain. He moaned, awkwardly rubbing his forehead near the bandage, where a new stress exacerbated his feelings of illness. His bruised hand waved though the air as he tried to regain the last dregs of his energy reserves. Momentarily speechless, the weak gesture was for the darkness falling outside and as his hand fell to the bed, it ended with a demand aimed directly at Steve.

"Back up," Danny coughed, winced and then determinedly panted out each word. "Either... you pull her out... or get over there... to back her up. Right now."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	16. Chapter 16

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Sixteen**

While waiting for the darkest part of night to commence, Elise hummed along as she paged through a large scrapbook and found space to add another new article. Many new articles had been added since her move. All related to the Governor's task force and their many accomplishments. She sneered at each one, duly noting that very few included pictures to protect identities. Yet she knew what each member of the task force looked like, especially the Commander of the unit and his second in command.

Those two she knew too well.

Working in consort with her devious younger brother, Victoria Elise Morse-Wells had embraced her caregiver role in that old version of the original game with a devoted fervor. Though Vincent's reasons were nefarious and she willingly participated, she felt perversely in her caregiver's skin as she puttered around a falsified private 'medical facility' and cared for a 'patient' who refused her diligent attention.

"It's time for you to get your due _Mister_ Hero," Elise sneered at an older clipping which touted Williams a hero for something or other she cared not read. As one hand idly stroked Silas, she shook her head in disgust as she remembered his moans of pain and weak attempts at evading her aid. She had so wanted to do more during her last shift and she wondered now what Doctor Ramirez had suffered. She perversely wondered if he'd injured anyone in direct antithesis to his Hippocratic Oath.

"You shouldn't have pushed me away, Daniel," she muttered under her breath. "And you certainly never should have murdered Vincent. But what happened today? Tell me, do," Elise smiled, and purred to herself, utterly thrilled by her spontaneous success. "I proved today that I can reach you through your friends. I bet you never thought of that."

A dark-colored backpack sat poised on her dining room table with a pair of black gloves tossed haphazardly on its top. A small silver pistol... almost looking like a child's toy, but a dear gift from Vincent... would be included in her foray for the first time.

"Just in case," Elise said out loud, smiling at her feminine weapon. Finally, next to those things, a leather rectangular case held a number of beautifully crafted metal implements, though she only needed two to get into the detective's home. She was more than ready to go that night; impatient as she waited until the neighborhood would sleep. Her skills at picking locks were ingrained by years of childhood theft and encouragement from two evil brothers. She could not only pick any lock, Elise could also hot-wire a car within seconds of breaking in and disabling its alarm. Or a house for that matter.

Besides the backpack filled with plain OTC drugs, the ornate pistol, and the zippered leather bag, Elise also had her other special tools laid out on the dining room table even though she didn't intend to use them that night. She never put them away because it made no sense when she used them so often at other times. Plus, she enjoyed cataloging her medicinal weapons of choice with a deep-seated pride. The shiny wooden surface boasted a neat assembly line of high-grade pharmaceuticals. In particular, ground down and finely powdered bowls of zolpidem and triazolam. To the far right, sat four over the counter pain medication bottles; two brands which Elise had found inside the detective's own bathroom medicine cabinet. Her original plans had been very particular but she had to revise them when she found his foodstuffs relatively deplete and wanting. Options were woefully slim to contaminate anything in the refrigerator or even the pantry and she'd had to settle for the dilute drugs added to his stores of ground coffee, jarred parmesan cheese, and the sugar bowl.

Though she had been disappointed, Elise had focused entirely in the kitchen until her brainchild was born.

Nearly two months earlier, she'd contrived the concept of attempting to contaminate his medicinal supplies. Particularly, going after anything of interest in his bathroom medicine cabinet. Whilst his kitchen might be terribly lacking, she wasn't entirely prepared to find him as fastidious as a cat about his appearance or what he kept so well stocked in case of illness. In fact, her eyes had widened in surprise upon entering his private bath. Where the kitchen cupboards were virtually barren, this room was a treasure trove of opportunity including a bounty of children's medicines she rightly assumed for his young daughter. However, Elise had one goal and one goal only at the time: noting the adult brands and modes of pain killers or anything ingestible with a twist top or presented in capsule form.

Nonetheless, with that day's success in the hospital, perhaps phase two of her evil might include the child. Elise smiled to herself, then shrugged noncommittally. The little girl visited so rarely, it was hardly going to be a challenge. In fact, the child was currently at some cheer camp or another and Elise truly didn't quite care enough to dwell on such thin possibilities.

With meticulous care, Victoria had purchased new OTC drugs to match those in his cabinet. She had perfected her talent of opening each OTC capsule by gently twisting it apart. Tapping each side with her finger, the real pain medication would fall benignly into a plastic garbage bag positioned just so by her foot. With infinite care, she would then scoop the zolpidem or the triazolam - sometimes mixing both - into the medicinal shell, sealing it once more with a soft twist and push. Bit by bit, Elise replaced everything in his medicine cabinet with her tainted supplies; and he never once suspected the deceit.

If Willams should have a headache, which he undoubtedly did based solely upon her machinations in the kitchen alone, he would remain clueless of ingesting dangerous hallucinogens. He would be ignorant of the fact that he'd be taking up to twice the recommended dosage, just as he'd risked for the last many weeks. Now, as divine providence would have it, her devious planning had come to an amazing fruition.

"And look what's happened; shall we?" Elise giggled softly. During her last circumspect visit, she had upped the ante with a special surprise injected ever so carefully into his open toothpaste tube. It had obviously been enough to put him in the hospital. Williams was a mess and he'd found enough trouble somewhere in the middle of the night to nearly kill him. She could barely fathom the success she'd garnered for herself.

"It worked, Silas," Elise couldn't help bragging to the dog, though her next hushed words were said out loud for her own benefit. "But I'm going to do something a little bit different tonight, so I have to keep going… it worked so much better than I could have prayed for. And now with Ramirez... with everyone distracted at the hospital and wondering if and where the next attempt might come from, I have to go out tonight. I have to because the timing is perfect."

She had decided to alter her game plan that very night while Five-0 remained torn and confused. She would have full and uninterrupted access to the detective's home while he was hospitalized and uneasy eyes were turned towards Doctor Ramirez's attack. Believing no one knew the truth, she would remove the tainted drugs and the tube of toothpaste. She would replace each with their rightfully labeled versions. Elise even had tucked fresh supplies of coffee and sugar into the depths of her backpack to cover all of her original bases.

"This could go on forever." Elise smiled to herself at the prospect of being able to control the detective in order to bring him down peg by peg and over a longer period of time. The Ramirez issue had created an exciting advantage that she couldn't easily pass up. It would allow the subtleness of a mere pause in her universe and when he least expected, she would resume the game as before.

"Spiders and flies," she whispered before bending down to give Silas a final kiss on top of his broad head. "And guess who the spider is."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Tight from pain and dizzy from the move, Danny was still relieved to be outside where he could replace mulish antiseptic smells with sweeter air. However, the effort had taken the diligent care of three pairs of hands to transfer him from wheelchair to the bucket seat of Chin's car. He sat there now, completely relieved and relaxing muscle by obstinate muscle as he allowed the medication administered in his hospital room to slowly work its magic.

Two of those people were softly conversing in the dark of the rear sidewalk, while the the third... Steve... was virtually on his knees outside the still open passenger side. A refreshing evening breeze lifted the damp hair on the right side of Danny's face before moving like a soft wave over his eyes to reach his nose and mouth. He shivered yet breathed carefully in, relaxing even more as scented air settled the swirling vertigo within his head.

"How are you holding up?" Steve needlessly asked because the journey was only just beginning and Danny was already over-taxed. The ride would take a minimum of forty-five minutes and then there would be the challenge of moving from car to wheelchair and on to the rear bedroom in the safe house. Each portion would be grueling for his partner's suspect condition.

"Why...?" Danny shifted, sliding a bit on the leather seat from a thin pair of light blue hospital scrubs borrowed from hospital stores. His face scrunched uncomfortably when his movement riled a stubborn knot of pain which threaded its way across his neck and shoulders. Eyes closed, Danny waited for it to dissipate before trying again.

"Why... are you still here?" He whispered when he heard the scrabble of boots and the light hospital sheet being tucked more firmly behind his shoulders.

"Lemke has an orderly getting a spare oxygen tank," Steve replied, just as off-handedly. "I'm going to recline the seat a bit more. You're too upright; it's putting a strain on your back." The harsh sound of boots on tarmac and pebbles scattering disappeared as the rear passenger door opened for Steve to manipulate the seat from behind. With the protection of his body gone, the light breeze had full access to Danny and he shivered again just as the bucket seat was gently reversed another good many inches. This time, Danny managed the change with barely an acknowledgement and Steve nodded in approval. Lemke's liberal dosing of pain medication and muscle relaxant were now fully kicking in as his partner sank more comfortably down.

"Please... go. Check on Kono," Danny mumbled, his eyes squinting lazily upwards into Steve's face when the dark shape returned to sit on the side of the car's base rim. "We... had a deal."

"I swear I just spoke to her and she's fine. But I'm leaving now," Steve promised, for their deal had been simple: Danny would agree to a hefty dose of helpful medications after which, Steve would immediately remove himself to team with Kono.

"Okay, good," he whispered in approval as a flash of light caught his eye. "We're ready, Danny." His eyes flickered to the side exit where a yellow beam of light momentarily lit the few feet of sidewalk and grassy berm when the door opened. Lemke's orderly had returned with the oxygen tank which was now being handed off to Chin. Through his fingers, Danny shivered again and Steve offered him a reassuring squeeze as he rose to softly close the door which completely put an end to the chilled night air.

"Chin, let's go," Steve softly called, ready to depart now that they had all the medical gear in hand. Regardless of their deal and his promise, he was undeniably itchy to get to Danny's house and on to Kono, too. "Time."

"Mahalo, Doc." Accepting the tank, Chin quickly thanked the doctor for his reluctant help in checking his patient out against his better judgement. "I know Danny's trying hard, but what was done to him... what that monster did... there's no words. And now after Ponch... he doesn't want to risk anyone else getting attacked," Chin appreciated Doctor Lemke's trustworthy support as he felt the need to again explain the reason for their departure. The bag on the driver's seat of his car held a more than suitable volume of oral medications and supplies to manage his friend's discomfort. "We would all have to agree with that, too, and this is the best decision to keep everyone safe until we resolve these attacks. Regardless, don't let your guard down just yet."

The car was parked alongside the curb, just feet from where they whispered in the shadows of the rear sidewalk. Danny was gently reclined in the front seat while Steve stood sentry, shifting impatiently from foot to foot as the two ended their quiet conversation.

"He needs to be off his feet... and sitting inside a car in no way counts, Lieutenant. Try to get him to eat something. Even if it's plain soup," Lemke advised. "He'll probably sleep during the trip from the medication... but you can expect this move to wipe him out and bring on a migraine. You can ice his neck and shoulders to relieve more of that swelling, too. But try to keep the foam cervical collar on for another day or so."

"You got it, Doc," Chin promised. "I'll call you directly if we run into any trouble. Keep an eye on Ponch for us... tell him that we'll be in touch as soon as this is over."

"When Ponch finds out what you've all done, he's not going to approve," Lemke noted of his peer, trying one final time to change their minds. Instead and to his complete chagrin, Chin merely smiled. Virtually throwing his hands up in the air at that point, the doctor could only show his continued disapproval. "Take it slow... and get whomever is doing this. If they are part of this hospital, I want them brought to justice."

"You're both right, and to put it bluntly, no, my husband doesn't approve." The strong female voice, filled with a defiant anger, startled the two men and reached Steve's ears proven by his instant reaction as one hand rocked to the butt of his gun. Another shape... female... had exited the side door just as the orderly re-entered. On alert, and not yet recognizing the voice nor the backlit silhouette, Steve muttered warningly under his breath.

"And neither do I," Ellen Ramirez sharply stated as she bore down on them from the door which closed behind her with a sharp snap. Her one-sided tilt to an eyebrow goaded Steve when he finally recognized her and he snorted in frustration only to drop his hand to his side.

"Ellen, you shouldn't be here," Chin started, but was instantly silenced by the no-nonsense expression. Out of breath from running through the ICU and then down the steps as she guessed their intent, the woman in question rudely retrieved the portable oxygen tank from Chin's hands, only then to push both Doctor Lemke and Chin Ho aside to continue her brisk walk to where Danny sat in the car. Then, Steve was the next person who Ellen pre-empted in her determination.

"What are you doing?" Steve whispered, upset by the unexpected encounter. Her withering look moved him two feet away as she opened the passenger door only to kneel precisely where he had recently been sitting on the edge of the car's floorboards.

"So, Danny?" He startled when a cool hand touched his forehead and then his cheek. Skirting the white bandage on his temple, gentle fingers softly pushed errant hair back into place. Not that nurse, Danny forced his eyes open. Whatever initial tension he'd sensed from Steve upon the door's opening, vanished with Ellen's familiar and kind face. Rather than being concerned by the presence of this particular female nurse, Danny managed to sketch a weary smile.

"Shouldn't... you be with Ponch?" He slurred under the oxygen mask which he instantly objected to, losing the short disagreement as her firm fingers held it in place.

"Leave it," Ellen chided him softly. She narrowed her eyes as she expertly evaluated his visible injuries and apparent pale complexion in the dim light. His usually bright eyes were murky and having difficulty adjusting, prompting an unhappy murmur from her lips.

"Or, are you part of our... deal?" Danny slurred again, briefly confused to what he'd agreed to as the medication tugged relentlessly at his consciousness. He hadn't even left hospital property and already, he was worn out and feeling numb. Ellen Ramirez's arrival seemed both appropriate and yet at the same time, baffling.

"I am the deal," Ellen joked lightly, ignoring Steve's ongoing query from behind her shoulder. Casually, she leaned forward to rummage through the bag which Lemke had provided, reading medical labels and checking on the variety of supplies given to the men to manage Danny's general care at the safe house. She uttered a softly pleased murmur of sound before turning back to Danny to check his pulse and respiration. There, her smile faltered.

"Are you sure you can do this, Danny?" She whispered softly, concerned by her initial evaluation.

"Yeah. But, Ellen... what about... Ponch?" Dannys eyes fluttered as he forced his sluggish mind to cooperate. He stared muzzily at her face and then tracked to where she was holding his wrist. He frowned, confused, as he realized she shouldn't be minding him.

"Why are you here?" Danny slowly kicked into a sluggish mental gear. He was supposed to be leaving with Chin... and no, Ellen shouldn't be in the car. Behind her, Steve lurked and Danny mumbled in disgust as his left hand flounced idly in his lap. "Better yet... why is _he_ still here?"

"Steve is going to leave," Ellen whispered, not quite knowing their plan but reading the faint annoyance well enough to offer some reassurance. His reaction caused a stray thought to flitter through her brain though and she frowned for a moment. A quick glance proved they were short of hands. Kono was missing and the team was soon to be more divided.

"As for Alphonse, he's resting upstairs. He's not entirely well yet, but he sent me to see how you were doing," Ellen truthfully explained, allowing her idea to gel more firmly with a self-satisfied nod. "He's a little confused... out of sorts. However, he asked me to make sure you were okay... and so now... I'm going with you," she ended brightly, her smile soothingly reaching her eyes.

"No, you're not!" Steve objected instantly. "Ellen, we're on a tight schedule and have to leave. And while I appreciate the offer, you certainly are not tagging along."

"Alphonse is in good hands and you need me. Danny needs qualified medical support," Ellen bluntly stated. She rose to her feet to face Steve as Danny's eyes closed with a comfortable sigh. "I saw Alphonse and while he's not making much sense, he was quite adamant that I check on Danny - he's upset and very worried. Imagine what I thought when Danny's bed was empty; it didn't take some special task force science degree to figure out what you were all up to."

"Ellen, I don't have time for this," Steve breathed out softly. He was anxious to move now after promising Danny he'd go directly to partner with Kono while Chin managed the situation at the safe house. In a very large way though, Ellen Ramirez was quite correct because his partner would benefit from expert medical care. However in the same breath, he didn't want to risk another important civilian with such a large unknown.

"This could be a few hours or take a few weeks," Steve reminded her. "It's a safe house, Ellen. Whoever is in... stays for the duration and we still aren't sure what we're up against. I have a small HPD presence waiting for their arrival. And frankly right now, I have to meet Kono. She's alone on point and I don't have time to discuss anything else in detail or negotiate various pros and cons."

"I can only imagine," Ellen retorted, hands placed on her hips, she was more than ever the confident trauma nurse. "You do what you do best... and I'll do the same." Ready to handle what she would term _his nonsense_ , she shrugged before simply moving to the rear of the car and opening the door with every intention of sliding in.

"I understand what you're saying, Steve, but you need medical support. I'm in for the long haul and travel light, so tell Chin that I'm ready to go," she stated as she nonchalantly did just that to wind up sitting behind Danny. Her head appeared briefly to spout a rather brazen series of words which dropped Steve's mouth soundlessly open.

"As of this very minute, I'm not the one who's wasting time, buster." Before Steve could move or offer another complaint, the door had been closed in his face.

"I don't believe this," Steve muttered under his breath as Chin joined him. The two stood side by side staring dumbly at the strong Ramirez matriarch who was now perched in such a way as to reach Danny in the front seat. With her ministrations, he had stopped arguing the oxygen mask and appeared to already be falling into a deeper doze.

"Well then," Chin said, lips pursed to keep from smiling. "I guess that's all there is to discuss on this matter. Call me when you get settled."

"Fine, Steve sighed. "You too."

"He's out for the count already, so I'll ping you when we get _him_ settled," Chin murmured in agreement. From where he stood, he could see that Danny was indeed sleeping despite the shadows playing so heavily across the windshield. Enthralled with the needs of her latest charge, Ellen had the medical bag filled with supplies now in the back seat within easy reach. With a focused diligence, she was rechecking the flow of oxygen and then making mental notes.

Steve sniffed loudly in an odd confusion of disgust and bewilderment as he watched Ellen work. "I guess we're ready," he sighed in defeat. Despite their continued murmurs of farewell, neither man moved though. He was torn by a moment of indecision even despite understanding that what they would do was finalized. The two had deeply toyed over which would stay with Danny; and it was Chin who had intelligently seconded Danny's muttered retort about caged SEAL's trapped in tiny spaces. Therefore, it would logically be Steve who would obtain more freedom of movement with Kono outside the confines of the small safe house.

"Think on it, Steve. Shower at Danny's… catch up with Kono, give her the thumb drive to play with, and get some rest. She's got something on the traffic cams, too," Chin noted distractedly, picking up on Steve's general reluctance to leave. His voice was a low whisper as he rocked in place. "Get some rest and see what Kono has on those cams."

"Shower. Rest. Yeah... okay. Wait... she does? On the cams?" Steve muttered, equally preoccupied about this new perplexing set of circumstances as Ellen Ramirez glared at each of them from the rear seat of the car. Her mischievous expression jolted him awake from his musings when she had the gall to point to Chin and then the driver's seat. "I don't believe this."

"Kono's got her nose to the grindstone," was the whispered response as Chin finally lurched forward, beginning to grin widely. He was starting to believe that he might have won the better end of their simple bargain.

"Forty-five minutes," Chin advised, as he gestured briefly towards his car to both break their spell and to settle Ellen who was now impatiently tapping her watch. He caught Steve's eyes and shrugged happily.

"Nope, I don't believe this either ... however, I'm not complaining. And by the looks of things, neither is Danny. So, go. Get out of here." With a gentle push and a very amused chuckle, he propelled Steve towards his pickup truck.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	17. Chapter 17

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

**Chapter Seventeen**

Steve chose to park his pickup truck in a neighborhood children's playground three blocks from Danny's house. His eyes were closed when he exited the big truck while he repetitively breathed in the night air, which was indeed more brisk than usual. He was glad of it though after staring at four sterile walls for what was soon to have been four very long, stress-wracked days.

It had only taken him twelve minutes to get to the playground. It would likely take less than five to walk to the house which he expected to be completely shrouded in darkness based upon his teams' obvious plans. Darkened and seemingly empty _just in case_ someone special showed up; and he certainly craved that would happen that cool night.

Chastising himself for then dwelling on where Chin might be in relation to the safe house, he couldn't help checking the time again. With Chin only one-quarter into his leg of the trip, Steve now texted Kono before beginning his walk to alert her to his arrival via the privacy of the lanai. Steve smiled when she instantly responded with an interested query about what he might have brought in the way of food. He chuckled softly, dutifully texting back his easy meal of sandwiches to avoid any type of suspicious odor which could potentially tip-off a desired intruder.

His smile deepened at her simple thankful reply as he threw his duffel over one shoulder and started his aggressive stride, stretching and popping misused limbs and muscles along the way. He stuck to the shadows and chose back streets to traverse side and rear yards to avoid taking Danny's new house head on. He had no issue with this circuitous route taking longer, but in reality his choice was intentionally astute. There was no need to be seen using the driveway, breezeway or the front door... _just in case_... and once more, he leered to himself at the excitement of such a prospect.

Dodging around a broken fence and vaulting another which was distressingly low even to be ornamental, Steve was in Danny's yard all too soon. Sighing at the ease of his travels, Steve wasn't even remotely out of breath and wishing he could take another one or two circuits around the pleasantly quiet community when the door opened.

"Hey, Boss," Kono whispered, eyes acclimated and twinkling in the dark as she opened the back door before he could even reach for its knob.

"It's quiet?" He asked, entering soundlessly and following her lead after the door was relocked to the spare rear bedroom where shades were drawn tightly even against the night skies. He smiled again for Kono's ingenuity when he spied her laptop on the floor and placed just inside the open closet doors. Not even a smidgen of its light made it beyond the foot of the spare bed and quite literally, nothing leaked into the hallway. Her cell phone, spare charger and weapon were neatly aligned in easy reach.

"Nice setup," he murmured in approval, hunkering down to finally sit with his back against the bed which gave him an eagle's eye view of the long hallway and part of the living room. If he were to move a few feet to the right, which he certainly would, he'd be able to see the front door quite clearly along with the large bay window. He laughed softly though as she eased literally into the closet to balance the computer on her knees. Barring the illumination from the screen, she'd be invisible to prying eyes.

"Sandwiches?" Kono grinned in reply, snaring his duffel to tug it between them. "Picnic?"

"Absolutely," Steve smiled in return, helping to retrieve and neatly lay out the selection of sandwiches, cold side salads and drinks, including extra bottled water. He had brought an ample supply of snacks for the long night, all of which were easy and fairly healthy for the options he could find and Kono was in her glory. He grinned as she rifled through the selections, pausing now long enough to text Chin that he was indeed safely at the house with Kono.

"I'm starving," she whispered happily, eyeing his face and shaking her head knowingly when she recognized a tired tilt to his head and overly quiet demeanor. He was ramping down now that he was away from Danny and the stress of the hospital. She didn't doubt that Ellen Ramirez's presence was additionally a balm not only for Danny's sake. On top of that, the sheer fact that the house was calm, dark and soothingly quiet only helped in sharing that more peaceful sense of being.

"They should be there soon," Kono quietly coaxed after sliding half of a sandwich Steve's way. "Chin should call in another thirty minutes or so. I'm sure Danny will be fine."

"Twenty-five," Steve murmured, spinning his phone around so she could read her cousin's brief message. He missed her amused chuffed sound at the obsessive - yet appropriate - countdown knowing full well that it wasn't related to her cousin's expertise inasmuch how Danny might be coping. "So far, so good; he's moving along right on time."

"Twenty-five it is," Kono quietly agreed with a smile lacing her voice. She examined Steve fully then. Legs extended and ankles crossed, he had assembled their picnic of sorts and then stopped moving except for a faint nod at her comments. Now, he was still leaning tiredly up against the bed and she watched as his head tilted back as if he genuinely might fall asleep. He looked weary and worn... truly exhausted... prompting a suggestion on her part. "Do you have a change of clothes with you? In the duffel?"

Steve curiously raised an eyebrow as Kono pawed through his bag. "What are you implying?" He teased, when she found a clean t-shirt rolled neatly in a corner and tossed it good-naturedly into his face.

"Not a thing, Boss," Kono replied sweetly. "It's just that you should take this opportunity to eat something, freshen up for real and maybe get some decent rest while I take first watch. Use the light from your cellphone to take a shower... keep it low on the floor and it's perfect. By the time you get done, Chin will be calling with an update on Danny."

Steve was silent for a long moment before he nodded and struggled to his feet after taking out the rest of his clean clothes. He ached for the hot water with a complete change now in hand and her idea was the best advice he'd listened to in hours. "When I'm done, I want to hear about the traffic cameras and what you found out," he whispered, doing a double-take at the sudden coy glint in her eye.

"What?" He almost stumbled over his feet then because Chin had been very correct, she had certainly found something of critical importance. "You got something on the attack?"

"Go, hurry," Kono whispered to forestall his hesitation. What she found was disturbing and indeed related to the one-time British national thought to be involved in the dog-fighting ring. She was nearly positive that Danny had crossed paths with the deceitful Richardson that fateful night. If she were right, then the wooden Cricket bat would be the blunt object used on the back of Danny's neck and head.

Kono bit her lip as she recalled the blocky wooden blade which was generally flat for its striking face. It's handle was short and looked like it could be nicely hefted in one's hand. But what she remembered the most was its pretty design along with a shiny gleam in the otherwise ill-kept bar. Richardson kept it displayed behind the bar as a thing of glory and pride. He showed it off as such; she didn't doubt that it was tough enough to be used as a weapon by the man.

"Once I get into this with you about what I think happened, it's going to take a while. And then, if we're lucky... maybe we'll get a visitor tonight, too." Kong reiterated, intent on at least allowing Steve five minutes of well-deserved peace.

"Wait," Steve whispered, suddenly realizing that he also had the thumb drive in his breast pocket. He fished it out, tossing it down where Kono caught it one-handed. "Hospital staffing list."

"Nice!" Kono fisted her prize with a happy smile. "Another gift to play with. Now, go, boss!"

Those parting words got him moving with a serious murmur of agreement. Staying to the shadows, Steve couldn't help walking the length of the house, first examining potential nooks and crannies to take advantage of later. Out of ingrained habit, he cautiously peered out windows to satisfy himself that he'd have the two or three minutes required for an efficient shower. The streets were empty and very few lights were on in neighboring homes as night fell in earnest. It was both comforting and dangerously quiet; almost too deathly still, and Steve paused long and hard for a second examination of the dark street when he glimpsed movement on the opposite side of the street. He stared hard realizing that someone was only taking a late night stroll with a large furry dog, its tail lazily swaying like a feathery plume from side to side fully content. Steve watched as dog and owner ambled along only to disappear around the corner before sneaking back to the hallway.

Glancing back one final time to the spare bedroom, he saw that Kono had moved out of the closet to adopt his position up against the bed. Low and darkened by shadows, he could only properly assume that her gun was in hand and ready, and he smiled to himself as he quickly went into the main bathroom to shower.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

 _"Danny? Can you wake up for me? We're here."_ Danny heard his name called from within the darkest of tunnels, yet couldn't find the energy to do more than mumble a questioning sound. He had no idea where here was and didn't care to open his eyes to find out. He couldn't even figure out who might be speaking to him. So when he didn't actually respond, he sensed more activity and moaned softly in objection to being touched. Despite his mumbled complaints though, the movement only continued, flashes of light irritated his closed eyes, and then there was a painfully disorienting sensation of being lifted.

 _"Watch his neck."_ _She_ said about him as he involuntarily winced when his head briefly sagged despite the soft collar and then was held in place from behind to prevent a continued painful jounce.

 _"Go slower,"_ _she_ urged again and this time, the female voice was pleasantly familiar, yet he couldn't put a name to who she was. Other familiar baritone voices murmured in a flux of sound around him, too. He was floating, moving and moaning once more in complaint against an occasional deep ache. First in his head, then his neck but sometimes in his chest as too many hands removed him from the comfort of the car to carry him into the house.

 _"Almost there, Danny."_ Chin's hollow voice was in his left ear, sounding close and strained from some effort which Danny couldn't readily identify.

"Chin?" Eyes closed, Danny managed to speak his friend's name. Confused and yet unwilling to think too hard, he could only register Chin's acknowledgment followed by sympathetic words which still sounded far away as if spoken in a deep tunnel.

 _"We're going to sit you down on the bed. Hold on; almost there, Danny."_ Chin spoke to him just before a moment where everything ceased except for the sturdy feeling of strong arms supporting his upper body. Then they shifted to support his neck and back just before these too many hands eased him purposefully down to be laid gently on his back. The change was more disorienting than anything he'd yet experienced and Danny briefly flailed, waking deeper aches in the process.

"Chin?" Danny panicked, nearly gagging in reaction to the whirling feeling of vertigo. His teary-eyed and blurred view of an unfamiliar white ceiling worsened the sensation and he slammed his eyes shut as his stomach clenched painfully.

 _"Easy, Danny,"_ Chin murmured once more in his ear. He was suddenly restraining Danny's left hand while simultaneously protecting the splinted fingers on his right. Caught in a twilight of waking and a drugged stupor, Danny tried to pull away and frustratingly failed against Chin's stronger determination. _"You're okay, brah. Try to relax."_

There was a vague feeling of his legs being straightened and blankets being brought up to his chest. The woman was murmuring again and fixing something to keep his head gently elevated. Yet Chin never let him go as he panted breathlessly to fight the threat of nausea; gasping in pain as any inadvertent movement tightened sore neck and shoulder muscles. He reflexively tried to protect himself once more as another blanket was tucked higher, only to bring on more ache in the process and a rush of worried instructions from Chin.

 _"Hold on, hold on. We're done. We're here... you can relax and go back to sleep now."_ Unable to understand why Chin sounded so tinny, Danny simply accepted what his muddled mind was failing to translate to focus on Chin's hands and distant voice. He remained tense though when a pair of slim female fingers stroked his face, whispering words which he couldn't quite understand.

"Who?" Danny muttered, jerking away and trembling in reaction to what he wasn't able to remember. "Chin?"

"Ellen's here. Do you remember, Danny? Ellen's here to help." Still gently restraining Danny's arms so that he wouldn't accidentally hurt himself, Chin soothed and reminded his friend of where they had gone and who they were with. Little by little, he felt the strain ease as his words finally made an impact.

"We're at the safe house... Ellen came along with us. Do you remember? Steve already texted that he's with Kono; everyone's okay," Chin coached patiently until he was certain of being understood.

 _Ellen_... Danny hesitated before he breathed carefully, forcing his shallow pants to even out to prevent the continued strain on his sore ribs. His sluggish brain kicked in and the hollowness of Chin's voice evaporated. Eventually, tightly strung muscles loosened as his muddled memories managed to perk to the surface. _She_ was _Ellen_ and they had left the hospital and were now at the safe house. And as part of that deal, Steve was indeed with Kono as planned.

"Okay," he mumbled, squinting up in a half attempt to recognize blurry faces. Chin was sitting on the bed with Ellen leaning over him. A darker shape loomed at the foot of where he lay which he vaguely identified as Duke Lukela. "Okay." His eyes fluttered once and then closed on a final approving murmur of sound.

"That's better," Ellen soothed as Danny became more pliant and far less agitated. With the aid of strong medication, he'd never woken quite fully during upon their arrival which was both blessing and curse. Finally swathed comfortably in the bed, with Chin on one side and Ellen on the other, his bout of disorientation was clearly understandable.

"You can sleep, Danny. Everything's perfectly fine." Ellen stroked his cheek again as he slowly settled, only to lay the back of her hand on his forehead. Stressed and over-heated, she tsked worriedly.

"I'd like him back on oxygen," she glanced towards Chin who subsequently motioned to Sergeant Lukela for the portable oxygen tank. Lukela and his partner had been waiting patiently for their arrival in the safe house; once Chin had pulled directly into the attached garage and the door completely lowered to hide the vehicle, the three men had managed Danny's careful, physical transfer from parked car to small bedroom.

"Thank you," Ellen whispered when Lukela brought her the portable tank from the car. With deft hands, she affixed it to Danny's face and waited for the annoyed crease to ease and disappear. A few minutes later, she nodded towards Chin, allowing him to completely release the now lax hands.

"He's fine. He's sleeping," she softly confirmed. Her smile was confidently warm, and as Chin watched Ellen Ramirez efficiently bustle around the bed, he was never more glad that the woman had insisted upon coming along.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	18. Chapter 18

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Eighteen**

From where she crouched just inside the spare bedroom, Kono's eyes were long accustomed to the darkness. Beyond her in the deepest corner of Danny's living room, she could see Steve's faint outline in nearly an identical position. He was barefoot, with fresh clothes clinging tightly to his damp body, while wet hair glistened as it dripped soundlessly in the faint moonlight coming in from the large bay window. She prayed that whomever would be entering Danny's front door wouldn't look sharply to his or her right; or worse yet, flood the room in light. But even if that were to happen, the person wouldn't get much beyond the threshold. At all.

She watched the golden gleam as the door's handle turned once, twice and then a third time hitting an internal resistance which would be eventually surpassed. Steve's direct line of sight to the handle was likely obscured by the long sofa, but she knew that he at least heard the soft metal on metal as tumblers were neatly picked inside the lock. The sound of success was quietly obtained and the door swung open just enough to admit one very important intruder neatly gloved, framed in black and with a bulge that could only be a backpack swung easily over a shoulder.

Kono's eyes narrowed in interest as a woman eased silently into Danny's house using her shoulder to snick the door closed. Then with incredible dexterity, she was at the alarm and using a slender metallic tool which briefly sparkled brightly. Their _just in case_ had come to fruition and Kono could already sense Steve's anticipation because it only rivaled her own. Ordinary blind luck had pulled Kono from the rear bedroom to almost accidentally spy illicit movement lurking by the dense hedge of floral bushes nearest Danny's breezeway. The person's intent was clear and Kono dove for the hallway. She'd hissed her warning loudly for Steve who was just exiting the shower. In a matter of seconds, he'd finished dressing with harshly whispered orders to allow their subject an unimpeded entrance.

There was an odd giggle of triumph which rang evilly through the stillness of the house to only harden Kono's resolve. The woman was casually slow in stowing her tools within a thin rectangular case, the corrupt sound of the zipper was another odd travesty which rang through the quiet of the house. After, she didn't move from the entryway. Instead, she confidently gazed around the darkened living room with a comfortable familiarity as if enjoying her view.

Seething at the arrogance, Kono had to force herself not to move a muscle or caress the butt of her weapon. Though Steve's orders were clear, it was difficult not to act too soon. She did dare to look towards his corner, expecting to see a dim outline of head or shoulder, yet she found herself blinking to be sure that he was no longer there. Reason said that he couldn't have moved so stealthily, yet the corner was empty except for a few shiny streaks of what was likely water. Briefly uncertain as to which direction Steve's signal might now come from, only her eyes studied the recesses of the room as she held her position poised on the balls of her feet.

Elise smiled in the silent sanctuary that was Williams' living room. Her late night walk with Silas had confirmed his house abandoned and so, she'd changed into dark clothing suitable for her foray and then gathered her supplies. She'd come there so many times in the past, she'd lost count. Yet during each visit, she always paused to revel in the feeling of success: to allow the genuine thrill of her power to wash completely through her. Elise stretched to her full height, the weight of her backpack was comforting as it banged gently against her side. Her small pistol was tucked in a specially made gun-sleeve wrapped comfortably around her left arm and hidden by an over-sized, long-sleeved black t-shirt. A sharp flick of her wrist would spring the small snub-nosed weapon out from its discreet hiding place, firing easily due to its hair-trigger. Vincent's gift was loaded, ready, and having it lay heavily against her forearm made her feel simply more than everything around her.

What she didn't know was that she was being closely watched. Tracked step by step by someone so eager to take her down, he could barely control his growing rage.

Gun drawn, Steve wasn't far from where Kono had last pegged his position. He was merely lower to the ground, blending naturally into shadows and the curvature of a piece of furniture. He didn't physically recognize the woman and yet, he wanted to see what she would do. He wanted to take control of her game.

He innately knew that she was Danny's frightening nurse from the ICU. She would wind up being _Morse's nurse_. He could guess that much correctly. He'd heard the recordings from the island trap. He'd heard the repetitive dangerous female lilt drilling hatred and a false relief from pain relentlessly into his best friend's head.

_Kill McGarrett._

Even though he, Steve, had been Vincent Morse's original objective meant to die at the hands of someone as close as a brother, Morse's damnable _nurse_ had returned. This time, seemingly just for Danny but it no longer mattered to Steve or to anyone on his team. She'd managed to get into the hospital to replant seeds strong enough to reintroduce certain aspects of Morse's game where it had left off. Assaulted in more ways than one, in pain, and terribly confused, Danny was once more _afraid_.

Only three nights earlier, Steve had witnessed that resurgence of fear first-hand and his own hatred grew for what Danny had told him in halting, broken words. _"She hurt me... my head... the stitches. The... threats... about failing. He's back... Steve, I can't do this again."_

He still didn't understand how it had happened, let alone within an intensive care unit. Steve merely believed his partner that it had; and this woman... this false nurse... had taken an unfair advantage with an abject glee by brutally pressing her fingers purposefully into a wound. She chanted Vincent Morse's key words; critical harmful triggers that transformed the phantom nurse back into a tangible reality.

 _Morse's nurse_ was the last puzzle piece to a lethal game and Steve would dictate its end. His breath nearly ceased in his chest as he solely focused on memorizing every aspect of his target. How she moved, what she carried and if she might be armed. There was no doubt that she would be _his_ target to own as he angrily considered the cruelty against Ramirez which was merely implemented to make a dangerous statement. With his ire rising, Steve briefly pondered Ramirez only to completely focus on what she'd so viciously orchestrated against Danny, beginning with Vincent Morse through that very night. But he couldn't afford to get angry. He couldn't afford to be the one to make mistakes, so he forced his emotions aside with a clinical neutrality.

Her current acts of preening and posturing grated on him even more than it did on Kono, yet he pushed that anger aside to understand what these clues indicated. Both mannerisms communicated quite clearly that she'd been inside the house multiple times. This woman knew his friend more than she had any right and she had invaded his private existence with only evil in mind.

Remaining hidden in the shadows, Steve froze as he watched her finally make a decision. She easily shrugged the backpack from her shoulder to rock it on the back of Danny's sofa. The zippered leather case was placed in a side pocket in exchange for two small plastic bottles. A subtle scent of coffee reached his nose and he cocked his head quizzically unable to believe that she might be replenishing contaminated food stuffs. She moved then with purpose, as noiselessly as he, because even in the dark, she knew the way without fumbling or second guessing direction. Her goal was the hallway bathroom and he sneered as he considered her prior visits and her intentional contamination. That night, she was obviously returning to continue in her tasks again.

He paused just on the cusp of entering the hallway knowing that her intended destination would put her directly in Kono's line of sight. He only moved again when the bathroom light was turned on. Barefoot and silent, he eased forward quickly where he could just see a portion of the woman's profile. From the spare bedroom, he registered that Kono was also on her feet and awaiting his signal to act.

But he wanted more as he edged closer, nearly smiling when he saw his own reflection since the woman had indeed opened the medicine cabinet. He took a perverse pleasure in her stunned gasp of dismay when she realized her error.

Elise's private, jubilant smile faded when she opened the medicine cabinet. Her left hand wrapped spasmodically around the two bottles of ordinary OTC pain medications in utter shock. _The cabinet was completely empty._

Unable to prevent the sharp exhale from leaving her lips, her eyes anxiously devoured the horror of each empty shelf as her brain stuttered to an alarming stop. She was too late as the trill of a fearful premonition drilled straight from her spine and down to her toes. The dampness of a recent humidity lingered in the room. Faint odors of soap. Shampoo. A humid sense which carried cleanliness along with it finally wedged its stubborn way into her nostrils.

"Shit," Elise muttered as each of her muscles began to tense for a fight. Though her heart was thudding wildly in her chest, she felt herself lose all remaining emotion when a lone teardrop shaped streak of moisture tracked down the glossy white frame of the empty cabinet.

Briefly frozen in place, she felt him then. He was too close and looming dangerously to block the entrance to the bathroom. Acting on instinct alone, Elise instantly slammed the glass-front cabinet with all her might, cracking it and sending shards of splintered glass into the sink. Rather than rushing the door, the two bottles were forgotten as she whipped her left arm out simultaneously dropping her entire body to the tiled floor, aiming upwards.

The report from her small pistol was sharp in the small space and the doorway was momentarily free to her. She was up from her crouch and moving instantly knowing that she'd have no other time to escape. A glimpse of movement a millisecond later had her firing a second and then a third time towards the left... towards the bedroom end of the ranch house and Elise realized she had more than one adversary to contend with. Or not, when she heard a sudden pained cry and a man's concerned query.

"One down," Elise murmured, allowing the spark of success to drive her forward. Those brief plaintive sounds indicated her opportunity to gain freedom and Elise took them for all she was worth. The light from the bathroom illuminated the hallway floor. She saw the smeared droplets of water then; the faint partial outline of a bare foot and then the front door just beyond those deadly tracks. But that was all Victoria Elise Morse-Wells saw as she was swept off her feet by a punishing force.

There was a moment in time when she was oddly suspended in the air and her sneakered feet were on a higher plane than her head. When she came crashing to earth, her right hip hit the floor first, followed by her right elbow and finally the loud crack of her head as it hit the baseboard. Her body spasmed uncontrollably at the shock it sustained. It happened so quickly, her eyes forgot how to focus and her lungs to breathe as she stared dumbly at the plain white hallway ceiling. Elise gasped like a stranded fish, flailing madly in place and unable to find enough traction to even roll to her side.

"Where do you think you're going?" There was no end to the cold anger in his voice. "You only just got here."  He was suddenly leaning over her, roughly ripping Vincent's gift from her arm, tossing it to the side and fisting enough material around her neck to choke her as he pulled upwards. Elise's eyes widened in surprise when she recognized the Five-0 Commander and it became his turn to revel in her obvious attempt at denial.

"It's nice to know that you know me," McGarrett ground out dangerously, giving her another shake as he re-fisted more of the black material when it stretched to a near breaking point. Her gloved fingers scrabbled vainly at his wrists as he used the neck of her shirt for even more leverage, viciously yanking her half off the floor. He grinned at her discomfort; pleased when she gagged and tried to break his hold.

Elise's heels scrabbled in an attempt to find purchase on the floor as if she might even crawl away. He kicked her over instead, releasing the front of her shirt in favor of her neck while a knee found the small of her back and her wrists were cruelly cinched together. For the second time, the breath was completely knocked out of her lungs and Elise's strangled cough made her eyes water when her vision grayed. She blinked in shock, gagging, and trying to turn her head in order to relieve the stress on her chest.

Instead, Elise could only lay the side of her face on the floor barely finding the wherewithal to see an Asian woman seated at the far end of the hallway. Mussed hair partly covered the woman's face, behind which an ashen complexion was testament to a certain level of pure pain. One of her bullets had indeed found its mark and as her vision cleared, Elise could see the blood seeping steadily from the wound in Kono Kalakaua's shoulder. Though she coughed again, one side of Elise's mouth rudely lifted into a half-smile before she realized her mistake.

"No one would know... or even care... if I killed you now," McGarrett threatened harshly as he saw the subtle reaction. "Least of all, Officer Kalakaua." He said the words a split second before her tender cheek not so accidentally connected with the hardwood floor. Elise yelped when she bit her tongue and the acrid metallic taint of blood filled her mouth. The pain surpassed that in her cheekbone and this time, a spasmodic watery tear did fill her eye.

"Now tell me." Held harshly in place, the unforgiving whisper sounded directly in her left ear. He was leaning heavily on the back of her neck to continually grind her cheek into the floor. Her ankles briefly kicked in objection, but the fight had left her body. McGarrett's breath caressed Elise's face and caused stray strands of hair to flutter across the line of her jaw.

"Just who the hell are you?" Rattled again and thrashed into submission, Elise focused on simply trying to breathe as blood oozed out the side of her mouth. When she reflexively coughed once more, small spatters of redness colored the floor.

_**~ to be continued ~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: I have to say, when I checked into "feminine pistols and wrist holsters" on Google, I never anticipated finding the most amazing things. In pink. Hmm - bra holster anyone? A handy-dandy lace thigh holster was most intriguing (Kono may have to get one at some point). Not to mention the "design your own leather gun holster" click through.
> 
> And the cover plate for a Glock (also pink). OH - and the adjustable inside the waist band holster, only out done by the "can can concealment hip hugger holster"! Yup - "can can" means "butt" holster.
> 
> Wow ... "squirrel"! Wait, what was I doing and why am I here?


	19. Chapter 19

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

**Chapter Nineteen**

"Chin," Duke called the man away from the bedroom's doorway with an urgent wave. The older man's face broadcasted the pending trouble before he even opened his mouth to offer explanation. "Two HPD cruisers were just dispatched to Danny's home address. Someone's in custody, but an ambulance is also en route. There are reports of an officer being injured; it's too early for me to confirm anything else."

"Oh boy." Suddenly full of anxiety, Chin closed his eyes in dismay as he sucked in a deep breath and tightly held it in for a few long heartbeats. He hadn't even had the time to text or call Steve about Danny's condition. His mind reeled from the rapidity of too many changing events at one time. Behind him, Ellen was still sitting with Danny to ensure that his vital signs continued their happier and more steady transition towards acceptable ranges. Though Danny was resting easily now, the sight of the oxygen mask and small tank proved how ill his friend truly was. Ill and weakly defenseless. Scrubbing his hand uselessly through his hair, Chin shook his head in bewilderment.

"I didn't even have time to call or text Steve yet," Chin needlessly remarked out loud. Without a doubt now though, he could expect an urgent call from either Steve... or Kono. He needed to give them time and not pull one or the other away from their crime scene, or even each other. He had to be patient even though his stomach was twisting with an overwhelming feeling of helpless apprehension.

"Keep me appraised of whatever comes over the wires, Duke. We need to maintain a stricter watch here until we know more," he softly demanded. Chin essentially had no choice except to wait as he thanked the older officer. There was also no need to ask who had been wounded just yet, or even how badly, because if Duke knew, he certainly would have shared the information. Again one of their own had been injured, but with Danny so vulnerable and entrusted specifically to his care, Chin had a job to do until further notice.

"I'll take this side of the house." Placing himself in the hallway so he had a clear line of sight from bedroom through to the kitchen door, Chin nodded towards the darkness outside. Almost unconsciously, he found his gun in his hand aware that the soft click of the safety being disengaged had drawn Ellen's attention. She rose to her feet, worried as she read the focused seriousness in their eyes. Her role was to stay precisely where she was though, and so she could only nod when Chin looked her way.

"Get in position," Chin whispered to Duke. "We're not taking any chances."

"You got it," Duke agreed, completely understanding that this new status only upped their level of vigilance until assured all threats had been eliminated. He would take the front while his partner, the side and rear of the small cottage. Lights were already dimmed and they were indeed quite prepared should something more happen that night.

"I have another unmarked patrolling this area, too. If this continues to escalate, we're ready," Duke softly commented before moving away.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Elise quickly discovered that McGarrett was taking no chances with her. When she refused to answer his not so simple question, she found herself one rope short of being hog-tied when he zipped her ankles together. After that, she may have well not entirely existed as he flooded the house with light and simultaneously contacted the police department for both an ambulance and additional backup. Then with utmost glee, her gun, backpack and the two OTC bottles were carefully assembled for his later use.

"Well, that was a surprise," Kono gritted her teeth, speaking low so Morse's nurse couldn't hear the pain in her voice nor the personal disgust. "What a rookie mistake," she groaned just under her breath, with more than enough energy to glare at Steve's soft smile.

"This is going to hurt," he said, still smiling with a gentle, amused glint in his eye as he wadded one of Danny's clean white pillow cases and firmly pressed it into the wound. The linen closet was close and without a med kit, the white linen was a perfect substitute for a bandage. Kono gasped again as Steve tightened his grip.

"I have to stop the bleeding," Steve murmured, his eyes more than sympathetic as he alternately kept an angrier ear tuned to their supposed nurse. "It's a deep crease," he added softly, carefully palpitating the back of her shoulder and the moving to her collarbone to ensure he didn't feel anything suspicious. The first bullet was embedded somewhere near Danny's ceiling. But after taking a chunk of flesh, the second one was housed in the now-spidered plaster wall nearest the bedroom where Kono had been standing in the shadows.

"Pretty lucky all things considered," Steve commented, referring to the wild shots coupled with the pain she was experiencing. He chuffed in a worried annoyance at the stubborn bleeding which was only reluctantly easing with his help. A decent piece had been gouged out of Kono's shoulder and he was far from pleased, as made evident by the continual stormy look in his eyes.

"Surprised me," Kono griped sullenly, though a disgusted smirk set her jaw. "Stupid mistake. A dumb, stupid rookie mistake."

"Nothing you do is stupid or a mistake," Steve whispered, softly. "Besides, you can't make a rookie mistake if you're not a rookie anymore. Stray wild shot; probably a ricochet at that."

Her delighted snort brought a genuine smile to her lips. "Thanks, boss," Kono nearly laughed at the unexpected compliment and ridiculous joke since the bullet was wedged in the wall, but she was suddenly very tired. She was tired for any multitude of reasons beginning with a long day focused on research and now, the post adrenalin dump of an exciting take-down. Being winged in the process was not part of the intended plan either and the pain made her feelings of being worn-out all the more worse.

"Not now." She had to inhale sharply through her nose when a the dull thud of headache began to leak into the back of her skull; another fine outcome of her body's reaction to stress. Her exhale was loud and solely through her lips and she cursed breathlessly on its heels.

"Dammit," she whispered, only to slam her mouth shut to inhale carefully just though her nose again. Her stomach roiled uncomfortably, threatening her with upending their light picnic meal.

"Adrenalin dump. You'll be okay, just close your eyes and think about breathing in and out... nice and slow," Steve calmly noted, after watching her reflexive swallow on the heels of the distressed complaint.

"Yeah," she groaned softly because she knew the sound advice would eventually work. At least, concentrating on studious breathing would hopefully work. Despite what appeared to be nothing more than a flesh wound, she also knew that Steve was very upset by the battery of questions he continued to pose and how he was so carefully catering to her every need.

"Fingers? Can you move them okay?" She had to peer up at that question, squinting and even grinning as he continued his most serious interrogation. His hair was damp and only now beginning to dry. The clean, dark blue t-shirt still clung determinedly to his upper body, too.

Kono had to smile at his mussed, barefoot appearance as he crouched so seriously in front of her because at that moment and except for his brooding expression, he didn't look anything like her very antagonized boss. She caught his eye with an amused sniff, and Steve rocked back on the balls of his feet, entirely defensive as a barrage of wailing sirens finally entered their vicinity.

"So, I can ask," he pursed his lips defensively, fighting a smile when she rolled her eyes patiently towards the ceiling. "Do you have an answer for me? _Rookie_?"

"Still attached. _Boss_ ," Kono quirked an eyebrow at his continued and very solicitous coddling. When it had first happened, the force of the bullet had sent a spike of pain straight down into her wrist. She could move her wrist though, as well as her fingers, which she did to blatantly prove her point. Waggling them almost rudely in his face, yet wincing as she pulled a bit on her shoulder wound.

"My shoulder hurts... a lot... but nothing else," she promised.

"It's a deep crease," Steve repeated again. He frowned as he gently readjusted his makeshift bandage and saw the continued ooze of redness which stained the material. He softly apologized for causing more pain when he held it more firmly in place while they waited for the EMT's to arrive. However, Kono's mental clock chimed dangerously with a sudden sobering thought. The wail of multiple sirens was ending now in front of the house and the chatter would have reached her cousin. Yet, he had been the one due to call them and she was instantly concerned.

"Steve... Chin hasn't called. He also would have heard about this issue over dispatch." Her soft comments, compounded by a sudden worried flush which recolored her cheeks, stunned Steve. He glanced once over his shoulder to eye Morse's accomplice. She was laying prone on her stomach, bound hand and foot. She was watching them closely and trying to pick up on their soft conversation. Based upon her continual defiant expression though, she would refuse to utter a single word.

Growling angrily under his breath, Steve knew better than to even try to question the woman about others potentially involved in the attacks against Danny. Her sullen expression was adamant; it aimed to damn them in its intensity by what it so clearly communicated. Her entire demeanor blatantly said that she would refuse to cooperate every painful step of the way.

"I'll call when the EMT's get you settled," Steve said, as he returned his attention back to Kono. It was a fair statement, especially with his fingers covered by blood and still purposefully pressed into her shoulder. Yet, she was adamantly shaking her head when she saw the happy kaleidoscope of reflective colors blazing across the room from both HPD vehicles and an arriving ambulance. There was a rush of sound outside the front door as it swung open to Steve's acknowledging shout allowing access.

"Call now," Kono pleaded, as a number of new people entered the house. "I need to know, too." Once swept away to have her arm flushed and stitched, Kono knew that incoming information would be more than intermittent. It might not exist at all and she needed to know if Danny and Chin were truly still safe.

"Okay." Steve nodded, rearing back only to yield to the first EMT and then jabbing viciously with one finger towards their downed nurse, unable to hide his disgust when the second EMT felt their suspect also required medical assistance.

"Fine, do it," Steve growled as Danny's house was over-run by HPD officers. He grabbed the two closest while spouting clear-cut orders at lightening speed. "The gun, those two bottles, and that backpack are evidence; get it all to the lab. I want everything tested for contaminants. Watch her... call in another bus. She's to be cuffed at all times and never without an escort. I want at least two officers on her no matter where she goes."

With blood staining his fingers, Steve's cell phone was almost to his ear when he paused before contacting Chin and refocused back on Kono. Her eyes were closed again as she took deep settling breaths to combat another surge in nausea. Common enough for the round of excitement and brief shock her body was experiencing, that knowledge did little to ease his deeply seated anger. He shook himself awake from those musings when her eyes re-opened to bore into him with a rather amused expression.

"Call," she mouthed, around a sharp wince when the EMT evaluated her wound and applied a pressure bandage.

"I'm calling," Steve muttered, dramatically hitting speed dial where Kono would see and even be able to hear what he hoped would be a normal conversation. He understood her flicker of doubt, yet Steve was assuming that Chin hadn't called literally because of that same HPD chatter and a sincere concern that one of them was badly injured. He was giving them time to control their crime scene, organize backup and care for their own, blind as he was to the true level of activity.

"She's fine, Chin. Flesh wound to the upper arm." Steve's first words removed the weight of the world entirely off Chin's shoulders. Steve could feel that fact through the phone based solely on the anxious tone when Chin answered his call. There was a murmur of relieved thanks and a sense of peace even for Steve as he picked up on the calmness in the safe house. While Chin and his team were on high alert, nothing was happening there.

"We got Morse's nurse," Steve breathed out. Utterly gratified, he still fought hard to not turn his back away from the chaos in his partner's hallway in a desire for more privacy. Though Chin was now confirming a relative quiet normalcy and that Danny was resting comfortably under Ellen's care, they still simply didn't know enough.

"Do as you're doing," Steve ordered. "Unless you need to reach out to me, I'll get back to you in exactly one hour."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	20. Chapter 20

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

**Chapter Twenty**

He wasn't even five minutes behind the first ambulance after an officer dropped him off at his pickup truck at the playground. Slamming it into park at the hospital, Steve was virtually on the wheels of the gurney which Kono sat upon as she was taken to be evaluated. No less than two minutes later, another gurney with two HPD officers as escort entered the same emergency room area with the extremely silent Elise Wells. He watched her more closely than ever because he'd insisted that the ambulances take them all to the downtown hospital even though it wasn't the closest.

If Morse's nurse wouldn't talk, then someone would for her. With a delightful sparkle, Steve's eyes met those of the woman who's left hand was cuffed to the gurney. There was a smudge of blood on her chin, an impressive bump on the back of her head and her right arm was awkwardly strapped to her body due to a likely dislocated elbow. Steve didn't trust the validity of the elbow even though the EMT's both swore it was indeed badly damaged. He acquiesced to the sling, but not her ankles. Under the blanket, those remained zip tied together.

Danny's phantom tormentor wouldn't be going anywhere. Well, except a maximum security women's prison. Indefinitely.

Steve held her eye and waited for it to happen. He grinned because she was smart and knew his easy ploy. Her anger refused to allow her to look away as she arrogantly also waited for the inevitable... and it didn't take long.

"Elise?" Steve's ears immediately perked up at the disbelieving query from a nurse who'd rocked to a stunned halt. Hands placed firmly on his hips, Steve had just received his verbal confirmation of recognition; without needing to say a thing, he won something from hospital staff before he even had to ask for Doctor Lemke or hospital administration to intervene. Now, he didn't bother to bite back the victorious grin as a nurse in the emergency room blurted out her astonishment.

"Is that Elise Wells?" The ER nurse looked in askance from Steve to his arrested subject and then back again as if what she was seeing wasn't at all possible. The nurse stumbled a few feet forward as if to be sure, but stopped by Steve's sheer size as he forcibly cut off her progress.

"You tell me," he demanded, overpowering in his need to confirm his suspect's identity. "Do you know this woman? Does she work here?" He asked, sneering happily in his prisoner's direction as he received a rather astounded nod in return. He didn't need to prompt again as a torrent of helpful words spewed from the nurse's mouth. Whether or not any parts of what he learned were entirely accurate, Steve at least had a toe-hold in identifying who Morse's nurse really was, and he wasn't about to let it go.

"Elise Wells. Yes, I know her and... yes, she works here. She's one of our nursing health assistants. Usually in the ICU, but she helps out wherever we need," the nurse was truly mortified, nervously rubbing her neck with a free hand and nearly beside herself with confusion. The staff nurse stumbled over her words, incredulous now of the restraints and police presence. "Why is she cuffed like that? What has she done... I'm sure you have the wrong person?"

"No," Steve retorted, unable to hide a new surge of anger against Morse's nurse based upon hearing confirmation of her ready access to the intensive care unit. She had indeed managed to hurt Danny during that first night, and small pieces of a desperately evil puzzle were finally coming together.

"No, I don't have the wrong person. She's definitely the right one and I don't want anyone near her except certain hospital staff; no x-rays, no tests, nothing without HPD permission and participation. Is Lemke on duty? Can you get in touch with him and get him down here?" His demands escalated in their vehemence, nonetheless he controlled his voice to avoid giving Wells any hint of satisfaction whatsoever.

"Yes, of course," the nurse nodded again with a slightly distracted glance towards her one-time co-worker as she hurriedly walked away. Based upon her honest reactions, she was entirely dumbfounded by someone she knew being placed under such heavy guard. Steve noted the worried response and then discarded it for the lie which it was. The existence of one, Elise Wells, wasn't going to be entirely the hospital's fault since Vincent Morse and his nurse were beyond dangerous and skilled pathological liars. However, there was a responsibility of which they'd be required to own for allowing this dangerous woman within their fold.

Steve was unable to force the sneer from his lips. He was indeed pleased with their success that night. This Elise Wells was the missing link. She was the phantom voice heard on recordings, the false nurse associated to the mocked up medical facility and Vincent Morse's abduction of his partner. She had intentionally attacked his partner multiple times in his own home and then spun herself unencumbered access into a hospital setting. While there, she had purposefully antagonized two people and these facts would only work against her in the end.

"Elise Wells," Steve remarked nastily as he towered dangerously over the gurney, only fleetingly amused by her lack of fear. He cocked his head while studying her defiant eyes and hard-line to her jaw. She was familiar and he snorted softly to himself as something about her appearance finally resonated. "Still nothing to say, Ms. Wells? Or should I say, Morse? What was Vincent to you? Brother maybe?"

Though she seemed more pale perhaps from pain or from something else, there was nothing. Not a germ of emotion nor a single response. Nothing. Within that silence, her only obvious answer was that Five-0 was going to have to fight every step of the way to learn more about her.

"Fine," Steve shrugged, before placing his hands on the edge of the gurney and leaning closer with a threatening glare. He had little doubt now based upon the darkness of her eye and unwavering, poisonous attitude. The woman was absolutely a member of the Morse family and he was betting easily on that of sister.

"This is one game that I like to play, because I have all the time in the world and you? You. Simply. Don't."

Steve would have said more but a hand fell to his shoulder. He looked up, surprised to find Doctor Ramirez dressed in fresh scrubs and staring at Elise Wells.

"Ponch, should you be out of bed?" Steve asked, entirely perplexed by the man's sudden appearance. " Are you alright?" The older man looked tired, haggard yet certainly of sound mind. His arrival merely substantiated that news traveled fast within the inner workings of the medical facility and it was apparent the physician wanted to see first hand, the culprit who had drugged him.

"I'm fine, Steve," Ponch murmured softly, measuring the bedridden woman for himself. His almost one-sided conversation continued with a somewhat distracted air while he decided on his personal feelings regarding the ICU's nursing assistant. "Lemke's on his way down. But I wanted to see this... person... for myself."

Steve watched as Elise Wells gazed in irrepressible hostility at Ramirez as if challenging him in her belligerence. Showing some signs of actual emotion for the first time, her eyes flashed in acknowledgement as she waited for him to say something. However, what he said next clearly rankled her mood and Steve pursed his lips in interest.

"Her? She works here... in the ICU?" Ponch snorted through his nose in disbelief, shrugging in a noncommittal way as he turned aside in disdain. "I've never seen her before."

Ramirez meant his words to sting and be demeaning. She was a nit on a windshield and nothing of importance despite having managed to spoil his coffee. He made sure that his words grated and sank home with a harsh finality even though she'd also attacked one of his friends. As of that particular point, she was a nothing and truly not worth another moment of his thoughts.

"Well, I guess Lemke will get it sorted out," Ramirez purred. "Maybe he'll remember her." Though her face now reddened in a blush of rage, Steve's grin broadened as he watched Doctor Ramirez idly wave a hand in Elise Wells' direction to further discount her very existence.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

The dream was vivid. Too vivid and it dwelled painfully on deceit and old lies. Grace was dead and in his dream, his dedicated physician, read the obituary with an emotionless neutrality. In his sleep, Danny's fingers clenched tightly to whiten purpled bruises. The broken fingers on his right hand spasmed and attempted to do the same, yet failed for the splints which restricted movement. He moaned under his breath, ignored the pain and tried to feel the lies for what they were because he knew he was stuck in a nightmare. But, he simply couldn't wake up.

 _"Shh, you're dreaming. It's just a bad, bad dream."_ A far away voice thrummed to him repeatedly. It was Chin and Danny's brow knit tightly in confusion because he had died, too. _Hadn't he?_ McGarrett had killed him. _Or, had he?_ But Grace. He couldn't cope if she were gone and he muttered in distress to object old, whispered threats.

"Grace is fine, Danny. I promise... she's perfectly fine." Chin intoned repetitively as Ellen hovered and complained about head wounds, effects of concussion, too much stress and the complications of medication.

"Grace is at camp right this very minute. We're at the safe house and you've got to wake up. Fight through the dreams and wake up," he soothed. Left alone for a moment, Chin only looked up when Ellen returned with a cloth and basin in hand.

"His mind is in over-drive and the drugs aren't helping," Ellen complained unhappily. "What the hell did this Morse person do to him?" She whispered, upset by the depths of Danny's nightmare and their inability to rouse him fully from its grip.

"Everything... anything you can think of," Chin muttered angrily. Ellen had no adequate reply to that terrible truth. Her only reaction was to almost viciously dunk the cloth she held into the small basin of cool water balanced on her knee. She wrung the cloth out after saturating it and wiped Danny's face. She then dabbed soothingly across his upper chest, just below the line of the soft cervical collar. He jolted in unconscious surprise at the coolness and she murmured reassurances when he seemed to stir a bit closer towards awareness.

"Keep talking to him," Ellen demanded, as she evaded the flailing hand which clearly protested her actions. She smirked as the same hand flew higher, just missing a sharp connection with her cheek in emphatic, feisty disagreement. "Well, he doesn't like this very much, does he?"

"Danny, wake up," Chin demanded as he intercepted Danny's fingers which again would have slapped Ellen's away even if it were rather awkwardly. His eyes caught Ellen's to share a moment of mirth as Danny unconsciously fought him now.

"If you don't like it, open your eyes. Wake up!" Chin groused in reaction to his friend's ongoing confusion.

 _"Danny, stop fighting. You're fine."_ He heard the promise in Chin's voice and more stubbornly argued the existence of the nightmare. The bad dream began to fade, more firmly replaced by Chin's voice which held an earnest determination. Morse dissolved, as did effigies of McGarrett and the shattered fragments of remembered sounds or threatening language. Danny woke abruptly, startled and instantly on edge because he didn't know where he was and for one long frightening moment, he was sure it had happened again. The ceiling he stared at was foreign and utterly unrecognizable from its worn yellowed paint to the truly ugly and badly outdated globe light fixture.

His face was cool, damp and he flinched when Ellen Ramirez unexpectedly came into his line of sight. She had the nerve to take another swipe at his cheeks and forehead, ignoring the way he shivered away from the wet cloth while she dabbed at him repeatedly as if she could wipe away his dreams as easily.

"Are you awake now, Danny?" She asked, then sighed with some residual disappointment for his first words. The cloth was plunked haphazardly into the basin of water, allowing some to drip over the side and soak into her jeans.

"Steve? What's going on?" He tried to beat back a new growing demon, startled anew when Chin morphed into view. He knew he had heard Chin. In spite of that truth, he was still taken aback. And though he thought he should know the answers to his own questions, he couldn't prevent them from tumbling from his lips. "Where am I? Why are you here?"

"Not quite Steve," Chin smirked with an amused, though wary, chuckle. His quizzical glance towards Ellen almost asked her permission to continue at the same time she gave a short nod of approval.

"You had one hell of a bad dream, Danny. While I get that, do I really have to tell you about the safe house again?" There was a long pause as Danny finally, truly woke. He looked from one to the other and sighed deeply as his brain caught up to being two steps behind his mouth. The dream was already fading and he knew exactly where he was and why.

"Safe house. Waipio," he murmured in disgust entirely aimed at himself for forgetting. He lazily rubbed his left hand across his eyes, blinking again, and now relieved as remnants of the nightmare left as if it hadn't even happened. "No, no. You don't have to tell me; I'm good. It's good."

"I'm glad that's cleared up," Ellen remarked playfully, gently combing mussed hair back from his face. "Do you want to get up? You've slept quite a long time and I don't doubt you need... some time... you know... to freshen up? Perhaps Chin can help?" Her truer meaning was plainly obvious and Danny chuffed in pleased agreement. Besides the necessaries which were uncomfortably making themselves known, he was anxious to simply get out of a bed and be on his feet, even if it were for a short time.

"Yes," Danny agreed readily. He moved his legs first as if planning to kick off the mound of blankets would be a fine step number one, but Ellen placed a restraining hand on his chest. "What?" He asked.

"You're going to get dizzy unless we do this slowly. Plus, you're going to be very sore. We need to go slow," she advised, smiling at the eager change in his demeanor. They had a multitude of woes to contend with from his head injury to the soft neck brace hiding bruises and down to his damaged ribs. There was no doubt he would feel each and every one of those deep aches as they eased him upright.

With Chin helping, the two gently urged Danny to the side of the bed, where he sat for minutes on end propped up between them. His readiness to stand was silently communicated, then achieved with some relative ease as each of his elbows was firmly grasped.

"This is going to take all day," he griped miserably as his ribs briefly protested and his temple adopted a dull tympanic throb. A throb that warned of a migraine should he over-exert himself. However, he was up and the safe house was small. Just beyond where Duke Lukela stood vigil at a window, Danny could see the bathroom door which marked his finish line.

"Ready," he breathed out as he began a studious shuffle-walk which was easier with each supportive step. He wanted the neck brace off, yet he also appreciated its support as his head almost wobbled in place. His foray down the hallway and to the bathroom took five very long minutes. In fact, everything took patient time after that achievement.

"Round trip," Danny wheezed, trembling a bit from the slow exertion. He was leaning heavily on Chin now as his temple throbbed a bit more warningly because this was going to be more difficult. Eyeing the length of the hallway, he set his jaw with a firm determination and a focused intent to gain the bedroom once more. One step became two, but a noise pulled him up short. "What was that?"

"Visitors. Using the garage," Duke softly remarked, but he was smiling and Chin was still very relaxed. No one was alarmed or going for a weapon; in fact, the warm scent of soup was beginning to make its way through the house and Danny frowned at the sudden domesticity. Ellen was in the kitchen. Cooking.

"Who is it? What's going on?" Danny realized that an important secret was being kept from him. Smiles were shared, but no one said a word. He heard the garage door again, only this time it was closing. He was about to ask once more when the breezeway door opened revealing a very happy Steve with Kono at his side. A gleam of white covered her arm but Danny missed it entirely for his astonishment at seeing the new arrivals.

"This is a nice surprise." Steve's smile knew no bounds as he unexpectedly walked forward to supplant Chin's supportive hands. With an unexpected swiftness, he carefully embraced his partner as if he were glass. "You're up, Danno."

"What's this?" Danny muttered, smiling into Steve's shirt as he was momentarily smothered by the show of spontaneous affection. Unable to move for the cervical collar, his injured right hand was useless, too, but he found a way to awkwardly tap Steve's shoulder warmly with his left.

"What happened? Steve?" His laugh was muffled as he stayed briefly entrapped. "Can't quite breathe, big guy."

"I asked Chin not to tell you." Carefully holding him at length, Steve grasped Danny firmly by his forearms. Supporting him now when he felt the fatigued waver, but grinning from ear to ear in utter triumph. It was a completely self-satisfied grin that found its way to Danny's face as he put two and two together.

"I wanted all of us to be in the same room," Steve further explained.

"So?" Danny allowed himself a lopsided smile. He knew what was coming and it dispersed his bout of fatigue as he focused solely on his partner. He knew precisely what was going to be said, but Steve wanted to deliver the message. He needed to be the one to say it out loud. So even though Danny knew what was coming, he waited after his quiet prompt.

"Elise Wells is Morse's damned phantom nurse and we got her, Danny," Steve gently rubbed his thumbs soothingly over Danny's arms, refusing to let go as he delivered each and every happy word. "Victoria Elise Morse-Wells. Vincent and Louis's eldest sister; that damned nurse and the same one who got to you in the ICU. We got her and all the evidence you could ever - _ever_ \- want. It's over, Danno."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	21. Chapter 21

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

**Chapter Twenty-One**

After the team gathered for their brief celebration and Danny was escorted back to bed complaining breathlessly about his snail's pace. Ellen removed the cervical collar so that he could better manage the soup which she had quickly prepared. There was a lull in the time spent visiting though as Ellen began to move around them, fussing, insisting that Danny take oral pain medication despite his initial hesitation, and then bargaining with him over replacing the soft collar. While the foam brace had certainly helped for quite some time, he wanted a break from its restrictive feel.

Curled up at the foot of the bed, Kono had started in a seated position. Now, after a subtle slide which was more her body's idea than her own, she was laying on her side with her knees virtually to her chest. She was pleased with their successes and nearly content as she listened to Ellen's patter of conversation in contradiction to Danny's rougher and more strained replies. What made her frown was the latter because Danny was still so very sick. Squirreled on her side with her head pillowed on her left arm, Kono could just see Danny's face. He was definitely more at ease, too. There was something in his eyes which was more calm... more peaceful, nonetheless his physical distress remained palpable.

The short time on his feet had left him shaky and pale. Kono entirely sympathized as she gently curled her sore right arm across her chest; she too, was officially off her game and still listening to a conversation now about options instead of the soft collar, she smiled only to close her eyes for a few seconds.

"Ice packs then," Ellen offered, recalling Doctor Lemke's notes as Danny lay nested amongst a veritable pile of pillows and blankets. "We can try that as long as you promise to get some sleep."

She was soon off again to rummage through the safe house's closets for towels to protect Danny's skin from the chemical ice packs which the kind doctor had included in the large bag of provisions packed for their use. With some inventive positioning, she soon had one laying comfortably along the back of his neck and two others resting on either shoulder.

"Your arms are alright?" She asked, prompted by Steve who had mentioned the odd tingling sensation and Ponch's concern about the bruising and swelling across Danny's neck. Steve's initial pleasure was being quickly tempered as Ellen's activity increased and Chin murmured a warning about Danny's general weakness after being moved from the hospital.

"Fingers? Nothing feels weird?" Ellen pushed, seeking more specific answers if something was inadvertently over-looked. She gently took his left hand to check his grip and then the color of his fingernails.

"Hands are fine. Just my head hurts," Danny admitted as the light in the room suddenly seemed to be too much for his eyes to cope with. A gray sparkling aura was larger in his left eye but another dim halo was sneaking into his right. The small bowl of soup which at first had tasted so good, was now becoming a debatable presence in his stomach.

"What else did you find?" Danny whispered in an attempt to distract himself from his discomfort. "Evidence?" Though his misery was growing and his eyes stayed closed, he still wanted to hear everything which Steve could share about Elise Wells. After reassuring Ellen that Ponch was going to rest in the hospital for a few more hours, Kono and Steve had described Lemke's reaction in detail. The staff doctor was beyond distressed by one in his employ being as duplicitous and dangerous as this nursing assistant. He was angry and felt badly cheated by the extent of the woman's contrived evil; in fact, many on staff in the ICU seemed to be of the same opinion. Most were offended and even personally hurt by what had happened under their very own roof.

"Lemke got us her address and so, Kono and I went to her house," Steve softly began describing the next travesty: the terrible fact that Morse's nurse was living only a few short blocks away from Danny's own. The frightening truth would kickstart their gathering of sound evidence which proved she had watched his every move to initiate her treacherous game.

"She has a dog. A Golden Retriever," Kono unexpectedly murmured, her eyes were still closed and she was on the verge of dozing off. Fighting the urge, she focused now on Steve's voice to rejoin the conversation. "Nice dog named Silas. Steve saw that ... you know what ... walking the dog in front of your house before all this went down."

"Yeah, I did," Steve admitted, purely annoyed by twenty-twenty hindsight. Silas was the happy dog he'd seen being walked in the dark just before taking his shower. Elise Wells had been stalking Danny and checking out his house that night through the simple act of walking her dog. He suspected that her attack against Doctor Ramirez was not only spurned on by anger at being blocked from Danny's hospital room, but also a diversionary tactic to give her more time.

"Silas is a good dog; needs a nice home," Kono murmured softly, remembering his exuberant greeting even of strangers who entered his domain unannounced. The happy dog didn't have a bad bone in his body and she'd called a local animal rescue herself before leaving with Steve for the safe house. But now, she was almost asleep and Steve glanced down, grinning and then gesturing widely to Chin and Ellen at their youngest team member's obvious state of exhaustion. A soft smile curved Kono's lips, but her eyes were closed and a rosy flush covered her cheeks. Ellen snorted quietly under her breath, drawing Danny's attention to his new sleepy bedmate.

"Leave her," he whispered. A drawn, tired smile reaching up to his eyes quickly faded. Danny winced and quieted on his own which only gave credence for Ellen to silently communicate one very clear fact. Two of their own had dealt with more than enough from a very long and stressful day.

"Agreed," Chin murmured to concur with Ellen's pointed look, grabbing a spare blanket to drape it over his cousin's shoulders. She never moved except to pull the blanket tighter over her chest, and he smiled in amusement.

"Okay, Ellen," Steve raised his hands to also indicate his agreement. "You're absolutely right." Based on the nurse's learned eye, he, Steve, would be the next to fall under her caring wrath. And to be frank, he wasn't sure he'd argue based on his own battle weary feelings of fatigue which he was going to have to acknowledge very soon. Waffling briefly in place, Steve forced himself to remain quiet. He wanted to tell Danny about the treasure trove of evidence found in Wells' house. The photographs, family memorabilia and then the astounding assembly line of both prescription and over the counter drugs which stretched neatly from one side of her long dining room table to the other. All of that was going to have to wait though as his partner shifted uncomfortably and bit back a soft, disagreeable moan.

"Danny, get some sleep," Steve suddenly prompted. There was nothing not being handled by expert hands, and an unmarked HPD unit offered continued protection for the safe house. Victoria Elise Morse-Wells' home was now cordoned off and being examined as a crime scene. The CSU team had been there for hours and at Steve's request, Duke Lukela had changed his focus from the safe house to oversee the cataloging and removal of everything of value from the woman's house. What they lacked direction on related solely to Danny's severe beating at the hands of a still unknown suspect.

While initial evidence indicated that Victoria Elise Morse-Wells was acting alone, Steve wanted that last ounce of proof. He wanted assurance that attack had not been orchestrated as an attempt to get Danny into the nurse's evil clutches within the walls of the ICU. Of that, they simply had yet to prove any true links. But they would... or maybe they would prove the opposite. Regardless, with the appropriate amount of time which included reviewing whatever Kono had discovered on the traffic cameras, Steve had no doubt that they would be able to end that mystery as well.

"We'll talk later," Steve promised on a soft whisper. "Try to rest for now."

"Okay," Danny's ready murmur was completely out of character after asking to hear more of their finds. It was obvious now that he no longer felt like talking and even his friends' voices were beginning to cause an unwanted spike of distress. "Don't feel well," he admitted, much to Chin and Steve's rising concern. Exhaustion had taken over and his head did indeed hurt as Lemke had warned. The tendrils that had painfully teased him upon first standing were now wrapped firmly around his head from front to back. They were tied in tight knots in his temple and poking viciously at his eyes from the inside out.

Conversation which had been softly humming in the background, completely ceased as Ellen silently motioned for their cooperation in giving Danny more space. Physical injury had begun the downwards spiral but Steve's remarkable boast of 'it's over, Danno' had put him squarely on an emotional roller coaster where, no matter what he felt or for what reason, his body was gong to suffer badly. The news was more than good but akin to an adrenalin dump, even the relief of its delivery sparked pain.

"Meds should be kicking in," Ellen murmured while sitting lightly on the edge of the bed. Kono was sleeping soundly behind her and only Steve hovered in the doorway, beginning to feel the aftermath of his own days' worth of marathon time. Using the door frame to hold himself up as he bit back an annoying urge to yawn, he lingered though to frown unhappily while listening to Ellen's soft tone and continued questions.

"You need your rest, Danny. You don't need to talk about cases and police work. How are the ice packs; are they helping?" She whispered with a gentle concern. "Is the migraine bad?"

"Better... almost," Danny slurred one worded answers. Each was barely audible and Steve winced for the hoarse timbre of his friend's voice. "Helps. Thanks."

First out of necessity, Danny's eyes had slammed shut against even a trickle of light. Now as his body melted into the mattress, he was wholly unwilling to reopen them. He felt better without the collar and the chemical ice packs were gradually leaking their coolness through the towels in a calming pattern draped from one side of his sore neck to the other. It took time, longer than Ellen would have liked, but eventually Danny did relax enough to fall asleep. But she didn't seem entirely satisfied as she lay the back of her hand to his forehead before leaving the bedroom.

"I hope you don't plan on moving him or even Kono for that matter. It's not been a day since Danny's left the hospital and that was premature," Ellen worriedly warned Steve as she pulled him away towards the main living room where Chin rejoined them. "Walking down a hallway is one thing; another trip in a car, in his condition, will cause a setback. I'm not kidding, Steve."

"I hadn't even thought that far ahead," Steve replied in all honesty to her own recipe of uncharacteristic severity. He had been thrilled to enter the house and find Danny literally on his feet, nonetheless the expert nurse in Ellen Ramirez was one hundred percent correct. If not for the safe house, Danny would have still been hospitalized. "But no, we don't have to go anywhere."

"We have HPD's support," Chin nodded in agreement as he seconded Steve's comment. "We need to make sure Wells acted alone, too. Regardless, this place is ours for as long as we need it."

"Good," Ellen visibly relaxed. "At least another day and maybe two from a medical standpoint. You all need to get off your feet and I'd like to call my husband, if I may. Is that alright?"

 _'You all'_ clearly meant one other person in particular and Steve chuffed an amused sound deep in his throat. There were daggers in her eyes though as she raked him from top to bottom with a peculiar look. He knew what she would say and she certainly didn't disappoint as she pointed towards his mussed weary appearance and then tugged him towards the somewhat dilapidated sofa.

"Of course you may," Steve kidded softly regarding her wishes to call Ponch. Things seemed to be quieting down, yet they were on alert and being watchful. Nonetheless, there was no reason why Ellen couldn't make a special call to her husband. Her smile increased to match his, but she didn't move a muscle as she waited for Steve's next move.

"I'm good," Chin announced, indicating his willingness to stay on point if Steve needed to rest. Between his two watchers, their continued confidence was all good enough for him and Steve nodded his thanks. He was bordering an incomprehensible level of fatigue which he needed to acknowledge or the Ramirez's would find themselves with another wayward patient of sorts.

Without another word, Steve sat down only to tiredly pull his boots off and scoop the two sad-looking pillows into his arms. Eyebrow coyly raised, he smiled in amusement at Ellen's rather astonished expression when he didn't argue a scant breath against her ongoing silent orders. Instead, he copied Kono's earlier one-armed slide down into a horizontal position and was asleep within a matter of minutes.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	22. Chapter 22

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Kono's presentation of the traffic camera footage, coupled with her expert opinion on what happened the night Danny was so badly beaten, made up Steve's mind long before Doctor Ramirez weighed in with his professional opinion. Shoulder-to-shoulder on the poor excuse for a sofa and with one adamant statement, he negated Danny's protests and refused to allow him to be personally involved.

"That makes no sense! It's totally about me!" Danny protested vehemently. Across from where they sat, Chin quietly stood next to Doctor Ramirez whose similar opinion had completely undone Danny's original complacent mood. Steve fought to bite back the amused smile as he watched Danny stare from Chin to the older doctor and then back again. He was only momentarily at a loss for words, though.

"How can you not let me in, when the whole damned thing is entirely about me!?" Danny's left hand had learned to gesture as avidly as his injured right. Compensating easily now, Danny pointed to Ponch in an attempt to push past a failing case. Especially since there wasn't a single person currently stationed in the safe house who agreed with him.

"Because if Kono's right, this guy almost killed you," Steve calmly reiterated as he watched his partner carefully lean backwards into the corner of the sofa. His face was lined with disgust, yet the unconscious tucking of a pillow to his bruised abdomen provided Steve with only more silent bits of fuel. Achy ribs and a very sore neck were going to be nothing compared to a likely migraine though as Danny plowed on with his inane disagreement.

"Danny, try not to get so worked up about this," he softly urged. The calendar marked the mid-point of day three in the safe house and Steve found it actually easy to be the voice of reason the more he watched Danny fidget in place. He was growing fatigued and couldn't quite get comfortable despite slow improvements in his recovery. But he was fast approaching that most critical point of no return where his body would happily remind him of that physical wall where it simply needed to rest in order to heal. The more agitated he allowed himself to become, the quicker and bigger that wall would be to surmount.

Using his knee to gently bump Danny's, Steve maintained his steady approach even when the reply was nothing more than a withering look. "You're not even close to being one hundred percent. Plus, none of this would have happened to you if not for me. Vincent Morse wanted me from the word go, Danny, and I'm not going to allow you to get involved. Not any more; it's a risk that I don't have to take. I have a laundry list of reasons. Do you really want me to go through each and everyone... again?"

"But this in particular is about me... it's about what I supposedly did that night!" Danny continued to argue albeit in a somewhat lower octave to avoid a painful pull on his ribs or rattling of tender neck and head. Nearly three days had passed since Elise Wells, also known as Victoria Morse, had been arrested. Based on gathered evidence and a rather difficult interrogation, they were positive the woman had been working alone. They were soon to break their imposed incarceration at the safe house; hence, Doctor Ramirez's approved visit. Yet, Danny would simply go from one bed to another in order to continue his healing while his team would continue to pick up any and all slack.

Danny's drugged confrontation was undoubtedly sparked by Wells' terrible manipulations, but where he had gone and who he had run into was seen as an entirely different matter. Because of that likely truth, Danny's arrival by ambulance to the downtown hospital where Wells' was employed was an unfortunate bad deal sealed only by fate.

"I need to go," Danny added as a subtle wince passed across his eyes and he briefly massaged his temple. Migraines could and would descend within an instant rapidity but in some ways, he was feeling at least steadier on his feet. Danny innately knew that Steve was right, too; it was the principle of the issue that was now riding his nerves and he felt obligated to object as he glanced once more towards Doctor Ramirez.

In his frustration, Danny pursed his lips before repetitively tapping his knee with his left hand. "If I drove to Richardson's bar, looking to confront the man about his hidden dog fighting ring ... and got into a brawl, then yes, Steven, this is absolutely about me!"

"You're not going," Steve breathed out, his patience beginning to fray around the edges as his partner persisted. "Kono and Chin are going ... this debate relates only to if my participation in questioning Richardson is a help or a hindrance." From the safer confines of the kitchen, both Kono and Ellen looked on as the argument only intensified. Each man was as annoyed as the other, yet one voice stayed relatively even and conversational while the other coughed, raged and wallowed through an occasional spike of pain.

"I'm not willing to discuss this anymore." He was sympathetic to Danny's argument; he truly was. However, his partner was barely back on his feet and the potential danger was much too great. The mere sight of Richardson irked Danny to no end. Richardson's opinion of the Five-0 Detective was identical down to the mouthy duel of confrontational words which had nearly brought both dangerously close to a physical altercation. Having Danny even in proximity of Richardson while in his condition was simply not going to happen.

"Doc?" Steve tapped Danny's knee almost apologetically, but he looked for support from Ponch who was listening avidly to the discussion regarding which of the Five-0 members might enter Doyle O'Kerry's Irish Pub located just within the fringes of Chinatown. Angus Sebastian Richardson owned the dive establishment and based upon Kono's deduction's, his had been the likely place where Danny had gone looking for trouble. If she were correct, Richardson had graciously obliged.

"We've talked about this; in-depth and you know that I have to agree with Steve ... though of course, my reasons are different," Ponch easily accepted the mantle by interrupting the heated discussion from where he sat. He looked just as unruffled regarding the finality of the decision as Steve had been while he calmly crossed one knee over the other. "If you were to hit your head again, or even the back of your neck, the outcome would undoubtedly be more than tragic. As I also understand it, there is bad blood between you and this bar owner; if he did what we think the first time, what would happen now if you were to waltz in there again?"

Based upon Kono's footage, strewn together mile by mile and interception by cross walk, assumptions had been made about Danny's travels the night he'd been in a fight. The tracked location of the Camaro brought him to the only section of town where a recent case had been investigated. A case that sat heavily on Danny's conscience and one that was growing colder day by day. It wasn't too far-fetched that his compulsion to confront the man was driven by the influx of having been badly drugged that night.

"If Kono and Chin are just going in for a reaction, I don't see the issue," Danny objected tightly. "Richardson is a snake... and a liar." His voice was tinged with a combination of regret, acceptance and even hope if the doctor might reconsider the plan. He sighed in defeat as he watched Chin simply shake his head to also decline his plea. There were no allies in the room to his support his personal cause. Chin and Kono would be paying the proprietor a personal visit at the shabby establishment that very evening.

There was no solid proof. Only innuendo, assumptions and qualified guess-work but they would test the man and see what they could shake out. Kono was desperate to examine the cricket bat in person. She wanted to demonstrate its capacity as a weapon and didn't care if Richardson knew her intent or not. As far as she was concerned, the bat was only hanging so prominently behind the bar for one particular reason and it was not to show off its fine workmanship as part of sports memorabilia.

Therefore, this test would intentionally allow Richardson to know that he was still in their line of fire. From his illicit but as yet substantiated participation in illegal gambling to potentially having attacked one of their own, a timely visit from at least two of the team served a number of purposes.

"Stay here. Please," Kono quietly chimed in from where she stood in the kitchen. She was personally very disturbed about the potential for Danny to be re-injured. Even an emotional altercation would be as detrimental as something more physical.

"He's going to say or admit even less in front of you. Even if you were ready to go right now, you know that's true - the two of you despise each other, Danny. The minute you walk in the door, no one else exists, brah. You're both in each others face like fire and water. So please just let me and Chin handle it." Her statements came from a slightly different tangent and were more than true, but her last comment drove one fact home. "Odds are that we're not getting an arrest tonight, but we will make an impact and it needs to be the right one."

The long chasm of silence which followed was almost stifling. It did end however as Danny wearily nodded and murmured an agreeable sound of sorts. He was operating on a very emotional level and his desire to go seemed to even prove Kono's remarkable theory about his ingrained drug-induced mission. He finally chuffed acknowledgement of that truth under his breath while aiming a sidelong glance fraught with chagrin Steve's way.

"So, what about you then?" Danny asked softly. "Are you going?" He sighed, a shallow inhale followed by an equally shallow exhale. His chest still burned and ached, prompting him to run his hand carefully over ribs which pinched at every simple movement. He was unhappy and it was getting late, which meant he was tired again. Worse, the rest of the team would be leaving within minutes to confront and send a message - on his behalf - to Angus Richardson.

"No, I'm not." Steve was already shaking his head. "I'm staying here."

His hand had found Danny's knee again as a way of sharing his utter sense of understanding about his partner's disappointment. The surprise on Danny's face was both genuine and pleased by the unexpected final decision. On one very important side of the coin, Danny needed Steve by his side and not necessarily to fight his own battle.

On the other, Kono was right and because of what she'd just said, his presence would absolutely foul any message they wished to share with the volatile bar owner. The only two suitable to follow through on Kono's good work would be Kono, herself, and Chin.

"Besides," Steve grinned just as a chuckle broke to the surface. "I have no idea what that man is saying half the time"

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Angus Sebastian Richardson looked up as the door to his establishment opened to let in more humid, fetid air from a night that was stubbornly remaining balmy. In order to better see through his right eye, his head was queerly cocked to the side. His smile instantly died on his lips though, along with the rough welcome he would have tossed towards his next customers on the quiet midweek evening. With a sharp clunk, he slapped the heavy scotch glass down on the top of the marred wood of the bar. His look of disgust was impossible to hide as the two Five-0 officers strolled nonchalantly directly towards where he stood. The stained kitchen rag he'd been using to polish the glass clean wound up racked over his shoulder.

"Not in for a bevvie, I take it," he snarled his words, swallowing them whole around a coarse Scouse accent. "Here to play?" His accent always took an indomitable precedence when upset, and their very presence pushed him right to that edge within an instant.

"Nope, not very thirsty quite yet." Kono's shrug was bored, noncommittal as her eyes wandered over each of his paying customers. "Just ... looking," she shrugged again, allowing her study of the cricket bat to be obvious. "Then again, maybe we're not as done playing around as you might like."

Kono stared next into his face and smiled. His left eye was just re-opening around a hefty, hematoma-like bruise. Black, purple and pale shades of green intermingled from the eye socket to sag into his cheek compliments of earth's basic gravity. Her gaze fell to his hands and her grin broadened almost in glee. The knuckles on both hands were slightly discolored and even one finger appeared to be broken based on a volume of white tape sloppily wrapped around the digit, now soiled from a day's worth of work.

"Had some trouble lately?" She asked, knowing that Chin was also cataloging the man's injuries which were only just beginning to heal. Upon closer inspection, there was another impressive bruise greening nicely along Richardson's jaw line and she snorted softly under her breath. There was no doubt that Danny had indeed paid the bar owner a visit. Their issue would be an evasive proof but they could work with at least communicating a very important message.

"Looks... painful," she added, with an intrigued lilt to her tone.

"Nuthin' not ' _andled_ ," he ground out rudely. His run-in with their Five-0 cohort had been unexpected. Richardson had guessed something was wrong with the detective, but had eagerly embraced the man's confrontational visit without gun nor badge. He'd come for Angus Richardson with a few choice words and entirely alone. Afterwards he'd anticipated trouble, but days had gone by and Richardson had just begun to believe no one would be paying him a visit. Now though, as he clenched sore fingers in anger, he tried to figure out the two Five-0 officers' intentions or if they were playing another game with him.

"Nice bat," Chin added, though his question was rhetorical and nearly as blandly stated as his cousin's first remarks. He leaned almost too casually on the bar, his upper body draped so far across the three-foot wide space, he rudely entered Richardson's realm. His eyes flickered over each deep bruise, measuring and analyzing their freshness and general stage of healing.

"Look's recent," he finally decided. "Had a bit of trouble?"

"Go 'ed, whatever it takes," the British transplant refused to move as Chin fingered the clean scotch glass end over end with a repetitious clunk of glass on wood. Based on their pressure tactics, he decided that he was in for a verbal thrashing of sorts and snorted in derision.

"You two 'ere t'doin' me 'ead in, then?" Richardson smirked out his challenge around a short laugh as he studied them in return. He'd done a number on Williams but they were guessing. He'd have been arrested and charged by that very moment in time if they truly knew something of value. Their comments of trouble in the bar and acknowledgment of a fight because he had a few bruises meant nothing in the grander scheme of things.

"This is a bar. Trouble happens." he sniffed loudly in disgust. "So then, you 'ere t'doin' me 'ead in, like."

"Do... what? Head?" Glancing towards Chin, Kono frowned at the oddly phrased comment which was too close for comfort when compared to what had happened to Danny. "Did you say _head_? What are you talking about?"

Richardson laughed at that, completely earning more of Kono's rising anger. He knew that his attitude was infuriating, just as it should be. His laugh brought tears to his eyes which he dabbed gently so to avoid dragging on badly bruised skin. Hanging high on the wall, but just within arms-length, the cricket bat shone brightly in the dark to tease them.

"Aye, 't'doin me 'ead, aren't ya?' He saw her face redden and then followed her eyes to his special trophy. Richardson's own eyes glittered dangerously as the smile settled firmly on his lips. There was indeed a bad joke and one perhaps no longer so private; a history communicated by knowing looks which would never be verbalized to admit guilt.

It all meant something and Kono felt her gut clench at its terrible import. Danny had indeed come here and Richardson had almost killed him, but they still couldn't act.

"What does that mean?" Kono pushed out in anger. She knew Chin had seen the gleam in Richardson's eyes as well; then it was gone an instant later. But she couldn't understand his heavy accent and hated his lopsided smile.

"Doin' me 'ead in," he groused out an explanation just because it would feel good. Because it was another opportunity to verbalize a challenge as he leaned up against his rear counter, while belligerently folding his arms across his chest.

"Cause me grief ... bring me trouble." He stopped and looked long and hard at them whispering at one very clear warning. "Make me mad."

"Well, trouble all depends entirely upon you, Angus," Chin said conversationally. Though he was internally raging against what they now had confirmed, Chin maintained his comfortable ease. Despite his quiet tone of voice though, his threatening stance never altered to match that of Angus Richardson as he casually wrapped his hand over his weapon.

"Where's the other two"? Richardson's eyes twinkled at their ongoing parry of wills, the lightness in his tone was intentionally off causing Chin's eyes to narrow in warning. "Your haole buddy, he's got a gob like the Mersey tunnel, that one."

"Busy." The one word response was soft and reeked of approaching a dangerous line. Chin shifted, readjusting his upper body so that his face was on an even plane with Richardson's. "Tell me... who signed the bat up there?"

With a louder snort of amusement, Richardson refused to budge. Then his offhanded shrug indicated an acceptance of their dangerous relationship and the dual sets of warning for what they were. With a flourish, he took a full step back and with one long reach, had the cricket bat wielded between them. "This? Not that you'll know... but Joe Lumby."

"May I?" Brazenly holding her hand out, Kono stared down the malicious and very dangerous Liverpool-born bar owner. There was no doubt that he was gloating and toying with them; precisely, as they were with him. They each knew where the other was coming from as the tension swirled apprehensively across the marred and ancient surface of the bar.

He knew that they knew and yet he laughed now as he handed her the bat. Kono took it, handle first, astonished that it was lighter than she thought, but distinctly strong and remarkably clean. Too clean in fact in the grimy environment of the old bar. Its flat blade was wide and easily the right size for the type of blunt object which Ponch had so described as being used to hurt Danny.

"Like this?" Kono paused because the move would pinch her injured shoulder, but the point she intended to make was more important than a few seconds of discomfort. Hefting the bat in her hands, she gave it a demonstrative short swing, stopping just shy of her own cousin's neck. Eyebrow raised quizzically, Chin didn't even flinch as the flat surface teasingly itched his nape. As Kono casually held her stance, Chin's scornful look which he leveled at Richardson dared rebuttal. The width and length of the wooden blade-like paddle was a perfect fit from shoulder to shoulder.

"Or, maybe here?" With a subtle adjustment to accommodate a difference in height, she then found the back of Chin's head to mimic Danny's severe head injury. Her cousin's ever-darkening glare bore into the bar owner relentlessly. Regardless of the overt challenge though, the man still maintained his stolid sense of composure; they suspected the truth, yet had nothing.

"Interesting," Richardson cooed, unable to take his eyes off his bat and how she held it. "Not a cricket player I take it." He rudely pursed his lips and gave a rather non-committal nod since her demonstration was quite similar to what he'd purposefully put into motion against her friend. However, there wasn't need for him to say much more.

"Hmm, it is interesting. Isn't it, Angus?" Kono ground out and waited, going so far as to shirk the bat away from his fingers when he sought its return.

In his sardonic amusement, Richardson lifted an eyebrow towards each and refused to answer. As far as he was concerned, their visit was over and any talk was done. The two Asian officers were side by side now and clearly sending their own silent messages which he received quite clearly.

Nonetheless, his eyes danced evilly in the dusky darkness of his bar. He jutted his lower jaw out to make the blackened-green hued bruise gracing the squarish-bone stand out even more.

A smile continually played across his lips, but Angus Sebastian Richardson held his tongue.

_**~ End ~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: I had to make my baddie bar owner a Liverpudlian (Liverpool - scouse accent/ words). AWESOME stuff - great fun and wonderful people - well, except for my baddie, here! For those that get it, I hope you enjoy what I tried to describe.


End file.
